


What to Expect When You Didn't Know She Was Expecting

by GwenTheTribble



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Babies, Baby Mutants, Baby Names, Child Abandonment, Erik has Issues, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Food, Food Issues, Friendship, Gen, Hank worries the kids arent eating enough vegetables, Humor, I dont know what ship this is gonna end with lmao, I think that tag applies?, Illinois, Mom Friend Hank McCoy, POV Hank McCoy, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Scott and Jean are that gross couple from school that wont get off each other, Smoking, Star Wars References, Swearing, Team as Family, Teenagers, hank doesnt know what do with a baby, horrible names, i dont truck with any joss whedon fuck ups, idk if discussions/depictions of eating habits makes u uncomfortable maybe dont read, ppl smoke cause its the 80's and everything was terrible, reminder that pietro and wanda and lorna are jewish romani, the 80s, the au is that ppl live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8971750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwenTheTribble/pseuds/GwenTheTribble
Summary: Hank McCoy was just trying to keep the school together.He never expected a social worker to show up on his door and hand him a baby.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

 

1981, Stockholm, Sweden.

Hank loved the school, he did, but occasionally it was nice to not have to be a good example to 50 or so impressionable youths.  So, every now and then, he’d attend a science related event or whatever.  Anything, really, to not have to be a teacher 24/7 for a little while. 

It was December, and he had received an invitation to attend the Nobel Prize ceremony and banquet.  Charles had received one as well, but he had told Hank to attend without him, as he “found Stockholm in December tiresome.” Charles had insisted on Hank ordering a “proper” outfit from his own tailor for the event.  A proper outfit apparently meant something that cost more than a month's’ pay.  Thank god Hank hadn’t paid rent since 1962. 

So there he was, in Stockholm, in the most formal thing he could possibly wear.  It had a black tailcoat, a stiff wing collar, a waistcoat, and other very uncomfortable things to have on one’s body.  Even his socks had a dress code!

The outfit ordeal was worth it though.  Some of the biggest names in science were attending the ceremony and banquet.  This was a possibly once in a lifetime chance to converse with people of his intellect.  If only he had known that many people of his intellect were lightweights.  There had been so many toasts that it was enough to get an average human buzzed, and the drinking hadn’t slowed since.

Ok sure, that probably wasn’t fair to them.  He did have extreme resistance to alcohol due to his mutation. 

As the situation was, he was standing at the bar when Howard Stark walked up, a gorgeous girl who wasn’t Maria Stark on his arm.  Hank was surprised to see that Stark was an actual person.  Logically, he had known that Howard Stark really did exist, but it was another thing altogether to actually see him in person.  The girl on his arm must have been his flavor of the month, and Hank wasn’t one to judge a woman’s choices (not anymore), but she looked a little young to be on a date with a seventy year old married man.  The man had a wicked smirk on his face as he ordered drinks.  The woman he was with looked to be in her mid-thirties, around Hank’s age.  Her black hair had streaks of purple in it, and she was wearing a red sequin dress with a mile high slit up the leg. 

If she hadn’t been with someone, he would definitely have talked to her.  As it was, his eyes followed her toned leg sticking out of the slit as she stood at the bar.  As his gaze reached her face he startled.  She was looking right at him!

Had he really been staring that badly? He blushed and looked away, hoping she hadn’t been bothered.  He didn’t even need his superior hearing to hear Howard Stark and the woman. 

“Betsy, doll face, that’s Hank Pym over there, I have to go say hello.  It’ll be boring old men talk, you’ll be bored.  I’ll be right back.” Howard told her, hurrying over to another man and drawing him aside.

Didn’t look like boring old men talk to Hank, but whatever.  He lit a cigarette to give his hands something to do. 

“Hey, can I get a light?” a feminine voice asked.  It was Howard’s date.  She was holding an unlit cigarette and had an expectant look on her face.  Her request clicked in his mind after a moment of complete stunned blankness.  He fumbled with the lighter, hands trembling as he held the flame to the cigarette, fingers all but brushing her jaw.   Oohhh, she was beautiful. 

_ Settle down, she’s on a date. She isn’t interested in being hit on by some near-sighted teacher, she’s on a date with a billionaire,  _ Hank forced himself to rationalize.

“How’d you get invited?” She asked.  Her side swept hair was a dark spill on her shoulder.  He took a pull from his cigarette to stall. 

“I don’t really know?  I’ve been published in some scientific journals, but I’m hardly on the Nobel radar.” He told her all in a rush.  “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself.  I’m Doctor Hank McCoy.” He held out his hand to shake and she took it delicately but firmly. 

“Betsy Braddock, I’m here because Howard Stark doesn’t go anywhere without a model on his arm, and I wanted to see what the foremost human minds looked like.” She murmured. 

_ Human? No way-  _

_ very way, Doctor. _ A feminine voice told him in his head. Betsy was speaking to the bartender, but allowed her eyes to stray over to him.   _ And you shouldn’t sell yourself so short, you are on quite a few radars.  Though, I’d watch your back with a few of them.   _ Her voice seemed to recede with the imparted vision of a flirtatious and knowing wink. 

The bartender put two champagnes in front of them before hurrying over to a very drunk nuclear physicist. 

Betsy sipped at the drink, baring her neck and collarbone.  His breath caught in his throat as the neckline of her dress lifted just a little, and he could see the tops of her breasts. 

_ She can read your thoughts you dumb idiot!  _ Hank tore his eyes away and downed the glass of champagne. 

“I have to say, the foremost human minds aren’t very,” her hand landed coyly on his leg, “stimulating.”

_ Oh my stars and garters _ , He gulped. 

“Aren’t you here with Howard Stark?” He questioned weakly, eying her figure. The feral urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away almost overwhelmed him.

_ Be a gentleman for God’s sakes, _ He berated himself. 

“Howard’s boring.  I want to know what the preeminent Mutant mind has to say about our liberation.” Her voice was low and sultry, his superior hearing honing in on it like a moth to a flame.  

_ Is this how Luke felt when Leia kissed him? _ He thought.  Betsy’s eyes widened.

“You like Star Wars?” She asked, her entire demeanor changed. Before she had been seductive, but now she leaned forward in excitement. 

“I love Star Wars!” Hank told her eagerly.  

She took a final elegant drag from her cigarette, thoughtful. 

“Where are you staying?” Betsy asked. 

“I have a room at the Grand Hôtel.”

“It’s too loud here.  Let’s go there, and on the way I’ll tell you what i scanned from George Lucas when i saw him at coffee shop in San Francisco.”

 

1983, the mansion.

The bruises from their battle with Apocalypse had mostly healed, but the mansion was forever changed with the presence of Erik and Raven.  So they were all finally growing up, and just where they were meant to be, even if it was entirely unexpected.  Hank certainly had never expected to be friends with Emma Frost, and he’d really never expected to see Darwin alive again.  Perhaps the greatest miracle was that Alex wasn’t dead after all, and was recuperating in the infirmary after his near death experience.  Hank had yelled at him for not visiting the mansion more often before he was stuck there in a hospital bed and how dare he think he could just drop his little brother off and leave.  Scott was a menace!  Hank had already had to pull him and Jean off each other several times, and that was when she wasn’t shielding their little trysts.  

Hank was stressed over the whole situation, honestly.  Charles was a good headmaster and all, but at the moment, he was rather diverted with Erik and Raven and Kurt, his apparent nephew. 

Finally, everything had calmed down.  Hank was cooking breakfast, the kids were outside playing and it was a beautiful sunny Saturday morning, and he could take his time to read, or conduct some experiments he had been meaning to do.  The day was completely free. He sighed in satisfaction as he slid his breakfast onto his plate, the overwhelming aroma of the food masking all of the immediate scents around him. He decided it would be science today, and picked up his plate to seal himself away in the laboratory. 

The doorbell rang before he could go more than a few steps.  Hank’s shoulders drooped.  The doorbell ringing was never a particularly good sign, not at this school.  It was only Saturday morning, what could the kids have possibly done now? 

“Hank! There’s someone here for you!” Alex called.   _ What is he doing out of bed? He’s still healing. He’s supposed to be resting from basically dying in a super explosion barely two weeks ago! _

Hank hurried to the door so he could tell Alex to get back in bed or he would tell Charles on him.  Charles wouldn’t scold but he’d give him that disappointed look, and then Erik would loom menacingly behind Charles and look like he was going to kill him for disappointing Charles.  As if Erik had any right to talk about disappointing Charles, Mr. Killed JFK. 

At least Pietro was a good patient who rested his broken leg like Hank had told him to do.  Of course, Pietro’s 17 year old sister Lorna had come to visit him more than once, and she and Scott and Jean had been caught together in the girls only bedrooms.  On the bed.  Hank was going to have to have Alex talk to him.

“Get back in bed asshole, you’re still healin-“ Alex was holding the door open to a woman holding a baby.  The woman looked like social services, and the baby looked to be about seven months old. 

“Henry McCoy?” She asked.  She looked annoyed, and a little wary of the buildings threshold, like she didn’t want to step inside. 

“Yes?” He told her, trying to figure out what she would want with him.

“This is a little unorthodox, but a woman entered our office while we were closed and held a sword to my throat before I promised to do this.  You knew an Elizabeth Braddock, yes?” She told him. 

Elizabeth Braddock?

A baby?

“Yeah.” He said shakily, realization dawning against utter incomprehension.  

Alex was still standing there, he sensed distantly.  His vision had tunneled onto the baby. 

“The woman who threatened to murder me signed over full custody of your son.  She provided his birth certificate and a letter.” She told him matter of factly, and pulled a manila envelope out of her purse.  Alex took it and she held the baby out to Hank.  He took it dazedly, but still held it a little away from his body.  “If Ms. Braddock contacts you please inform her that she does not need to kill me.  Bye.” The social worker turned on her heel and hurried away from the Mansion, seeming to want to put distance between herself and them. 

He still held the baby away from his chest but moved away from the door, Alex closed it behind him.  Hank and the baby stared at each other in complete silence.

It should be known that Hank was a genius, a prodigy.  His vocabulary was unparalleled, he had translated a book of poems from Latin when he was 17.  In his defense, he was in a great deal of shock when he first spoke to and about his son.

“What the hell fuck?” He questioned, stunned.

The kid screwed up his face and turned red, seconds from balling. 

Alarms went off in his head, but none of his CIA training prepared him for this. Medical school hadn’t prepared him for this.  Being a teacher hadn’t even prepared him for this.

“You’re holding him wrong, Bozo.” Alex told him. He huffed at Hank when he didn’t do anything but stare at him in desperate confusion. “Jesus Christ just come sit down, how many doctorates do you have again?” He instructed with his usual rough edged charm. 

Alex guided him to a chair, Hank’s knees buckling under him and sitting down hard. 

“Just put him on your chest.” He instructed.  Hank held the baby closer to him.  “Ok, just put your hand under his ass, see? And then put him on your hip when you’re carrying him.” The baby calmed down, but Hank was just beginning to freak out. 

“What’s in the folder?” He asked.  Alex looked at the manila envelope still in his hands and opened it, pulling out a few papers. 

“This paper-“ he held up the paper “is saying you have full custody… This-“ He held up a folded piece of paper “is the letter she left you.  Here’s the birth certificate.  Kid’s name is Tiberius Braddock-McCoy, can you believe that?  _ Tiberius? _ ” Alex stressed.

Hank looked at the top of the baby’s- his son’s- head.  It had a dusting of blonde hair. 

“Give me the letter.” Alex handed it to him, and Hank’s nose could detect her on the paper, faintly.  He unfolded it to find a brief note.  Without even thinking about it he began reading it aloud, so that Alex could also hear. “Dear Hank, please take care of our son Tiberius.  Though I sensed a regrettable amount of human sympathy in your mind, I also saw you were a good man who I think will be a good father. I would have kept Tiberius with me but I most want to keep him safe. The Government has been after me since i fought with Apocalypse.  We both know they’re not above experimenting on a baby.  He likes sweet potatoes and has had his shots, but he might be allergic to cinnamon.”  He looked up at Alex, who was sitting on the arm of the couch. “That’s all it says.”  

“This is fucked up.  What kind of name is Tiberius?” Alex questioned.

“What am I going to do?  I can’t have a  _ baby _ ,” Hank said.  Alex snorted, hard and ugly and dismissive. 

“Of everyone at this freak show, you’re probably the only one who should have a baby.” He told him.  “Wait, you had baby with a girl who joined Apocalypse?  What about your whole “don’t kill humans” thing?”

Hank sighed. 

“It’s not like she was talking about killing all humans when I met her!” He insisted. 

“Who wasn’t talking about killing all humans? No never mind, why do you have a baby?” Raven walked in the sitting room.  Thankfully she had agreed to wear clothes even in her blue form, though if she kept it to a minimum. 

“Hank’s a daddy,” Alex told her with a shit eating grin.

“Wow.  What’s its name?”  She asked, apparently unaffected by the situation. 

“ _ Tiberius _ ,” Alex told her eagerly.

“Tiberius Braddock-McCoy.” Hank told her, not like a 12 year old,  _ Alex _ .

She squinted her yellow eyes at him. 

“Braddock? Braddock… Wasn’t that the girl who was working for Caliban who just tried to kill us?  You  _ had a baby _ with her?”  She gawped at him. 

Hank just shrugged.

“Guess I did.” Who he had a baby with did not seem as important as the fact that he now had a baby.  “What am I supposed to do now?” He asked her incredulously, a little helpless.  It felt like it was still the month of training before Shaw, before everything.  He felt that young and foolish again, and reaching out to the only girl on the planet who could help him.

Of course, a precedent had already been set with this sort of thing.  She shrugged, and left the room.

“Great.” He muttered, and looked at Alex.  “How’d you know how to hold him?”

Alex rolled his eyes. 

“My parents taught me- with Scott.” He told Hank, quiet.  He rarely made any mention of his childhood.  This truly was a day of the unexpected as Raven came back, followed by Charles, Erik, and Emma. 

“A baby! Marvelous Hank, absolutely marvelous!” Charles proclaimed exuberantly.

Erik didn’t say anything, but his eyes were steely and far away. 

Emma simply looked at him, her face unexpressive.   _ Tiberius. Interesting name  _ her voice echoed in his head, but Hank knew she was giving him her support. 

“Are you gonna keep him?” Raven asked, point blank.  

“Ra- Raven!” Charles exclaimed

Raven shrugged at her brother’s shock. 

“What? He could just as easily put it up for adoption,” she asserted.  

Adoption did seem like it would be the easier option. He wouldn't have to try to be a father, which he had absolutely no idea how to do. This baby wouldn't have to be raised by someone who didn't know what they were doing. It’d be better for everyone. But… his record would say he had two mutant parents. He’d almost certainly be a mutant himself. No one would want to adopt him. He’d be bounced around the system, staying short stints with human parents who would at best tolerate and ignore his mutation, like Alex and Scott. The very thought of allowing his son to grow up unloved was repulsive.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll keep him.”

“What’s his name?” Charles asked eagerly. 

“Tiberius,” Hank told them, already getting accustomed to the distinct smell of the baby.  His son’s heartbeat was faster than his own. 

A wrinkle appeared in Charles’s brow. 

“Tiberius? That’s, well, it certainly is a name.” He managed to say. 

“I like it.” Erik said abruptly.  “It’s a strong name.”

They all stood there for a moment, as though absorbing what Erik had said.

“You’re going to need a crib.” Charles remarked, looking thoughtful.

“He’s going to need everything.” Raven countered. 

“I think we have one in the attic… Erik darling, be a dear and go check for it?” Charles continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted.  Erik wouldn’t have gone for anyone else, and he would never answer to darling, except that it had been Charles to ask. 

He strode out, Charles looking at him a little adoringly. 

“We should go to the store,” Raven suggested.  Emma nodded.  “Get the necessities.”

“Alright,” Hank agreed and got up from his chair, grateful that someone was there to tell him what to do. 

“I’m in.” Alex stood to follow them. 

“ _ You are? _ ” Hank questioned.  Alex had never shown an interest in shopping. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Raven asked pointedly. 

“If i stay in this house one more minute, I’m going to literally explode.”

Hank looked at Raven and Emma.  Raven shrugged and Emma slightly moved her eyebrows. 

“Ok. We’re driving into town yeah?” He asked. 

It was Raven and Emma’s turn to share a look. 

“The city. Let’s go.”  Emma announced, and they all followed her. 

Hank followed them with Tiberius and Alex followed him. 

In the large garage Raven swiped the keys to the Chrysler and shifted to her blonde form as they got in the car. 

Hank and Alex sat in the back seat together.  It seemed that Tiberius was an exceedingly quiet baby, no gurgles or giggles to be heard from him.  He fell asleep on Hank’s chest ten minutes into the drive, and didn’t wake up until they were on W 57 th street.  Hank took a moment to look at him.  He had blue eyes, like his own.  Hank thought his nose looked a little more like Betsy’s. 

Raven parked outside Saks Fifth Avenue. 

“Isn’t Saks a little too fancy?” He questioned, getting out with the rest of them. 

“It’s ok, I took Charles’s checkbook.” Raven replied as they stepped inside the department store. That had not exactly been what he meant, but whatever.

Emma led them to the elevators, most likely having glanced through an employee’s mind for their destination.  The doors opened and they all followed her, their glacial figurehead guiding them through the stormy seas of retail. 

The children’s department was on the top floor, things arranged by gender and age. 

Raven made a beeline towards the clothes.

“Emma, could you check and see if Erik found-“ She began to ask.

“He found it.” Emma replied before she could finish.

“Well, there’s your crib out of the way, but you probably don’t want to use the antique bedding that some kid with smallpox died on.  Alright, let’s get started with the basics.” Raven told him, grabbing a wicker shopping basket and thrusting it at him like a she was handing him a rifle.  “You’ll want 6-9 and some 9-12 stuff. Alex, make yourself useful and go pick out some baby bottles, 2 big, 1 small.”  Alex looked bewildered, but wandered away to find the bottles.

Raven and Emma started pulling clothes off the racks. 

“You go pick out a diaper bag.” She told Hank. 

He nodded, and glanced around for where those might be.  There were bags along the back wall, so that must have been where the diaper bags were.  He hurried over, bouncing Tiberius on his hip.  A bag, he just wanted a basic bag to put bottles and diapers in.  Cause he was a dad now. 

_ Holy shit I can’t be a dad I’m going to ruin this kids life oh my god what was Betsy thinking I’m not going to be a good dad! _

Hank forced himself to stop thinking about how he was incapable of caring for a child.   _ Just pick out a bag. _ He told himself. 

Most of them were brightly colored, almost garish.  He grabbed the most neutral one he could, a dark blue one with a single golden star embroidered on the flap. 

“Do you like this one?” He asked Tiberius, who was still very quiet, even for someone who couldn’t talk.  

_ Maybe he’s scared.  He’s never seen you in his life, he doesn’t know where his mom is.  To him you’re just some creep asking him if he likes a diaper bag.   _ Hank thought. 

“I like it too,” Hank said.   __

Instead of returning to Emma and Raven he went to find Alex, who was staring at baby bottles with the air of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were doing. Hank inspected the bottles Alex was looking at and plucked 3 bottles off the shelf, throwing them in the basket. 

“Do you need the sucky thing?” Alex asked as he broke from his bottle daze. 

“Sucky thing?” He asked. 

“Yeah, like, the nipple? It’s just like they’re sucking a tit, but it’s plastic?” Alex tried to explain. 

“A pacifier?”

“Yeah, a pacifier!” Alex nodded. 

Hank paused, stumped. 

“I don’t know.” He looked at Tiberius. “Do you think he still uses one?” Hank wondered.

Alex shrugged.  He grabbed one off the shelf and tossed it in the basket. 

“Charles is paying, may as well.” He rationalized as he passed him. Hank followed him back to Emma and Raven, who had filled two baskets to overflow with clothes.

“Do we have everything?” He asked, assuming that they must have been.  They already had clothes, bottles, pacifiers and blankets.  What else could a baby need?

Raven gave him an incredulous look. A lot, apparently.

“You still need crib sheets and a stroller, toys, a playpen.” She turned to look around the store.  “Do you think you need a high chair?”  Her eyes took on a frenzied glint that did not seem to bode well for Charles’s checkbook. 

  
  


They had almost cleared out the children’s section by the time they were finished, but Raven was satisfied with their purchases.  Hank himself felt more than a little overwhelmed as Alex and Raven carried the bags out of the store.  A few store attendants followed behind them with some bags and boxes. He and Emma only carried a few bags themselves.  Hank, because he was holding the perpetually quiet Tiberius, and Emma because she was Emma, and had made it so.  After quite a lot of shuffling and rearranging, they had managed to fit all the items into the car, even the boxes. 

He and Alex had a few bags in between them in the backseat.

Tiberius had fallen asleep on his chest again.  Emma looked back at them from the passenger seat, her face cool as ever.  

_ You make quite the picture you know.  Very sweet.  _ She said in his head.  He smiled at her, adjusting Tiberius in his arms. 

“What about food? What should i give him? Betsy’s letter said he likes sweet potatoes,” Hank questioned, his scientific mind driving him from question to question, “does that mean like sweet potato baby food or mashed sweet potatoes?” 

“Don’t worry, We’ll stop by the grocery store on the way home. I’ll show you what to do, and then you can do it on your own,” Raven assured.  She said it a note of sadness.  It occurred to Hank that he didn't know how old Kurt had been when she lost him.  

He nodded, grateful, before settling back in his seat, holding Tiberius carefully, frightened that he’d forget to reign in his strength and crush him, as he had done to his uncle's hand as a child. 

“At least you already dress like a dad,” Alex quipped suddenly.  Raven snorted in laughter.  Even Emma let out a crystallizing breathy laugh.  

Hank rolled his eyes, but chuckled all the same. 

“Ahahahaha!” Tiberius squealed, stunning them all into silence. This didn't stop his son, however.  “Ahahahahahaaa!” 

Hank felt his own chest begin to shake with laughter as Alex cracked up, Raven laughing in delight. He caught Emma’s eye as she turned and gave him a rare grin, her entire face transformed with a rosy glow.  Tiberius clapped his hands and cackled at them, only making them laugh harder.  

His stress eased for the first time that day, reminded of fun drives to his grandparents house with his parents, when his mama would pass out the oatmeal raisin cookies she had made, and his dad would sing along to the radio, making both Hank and his mama cringe.  

_ My parents. _ He thought, all the stress rushing back. 

“Holy shi- cow! How am i going to tell my parents?” He asked. Everyone abruptly stopped laughing, even Tiberius. 

“Maybe they’ll be happy? Aren't they always asking when you're going to settle down with a nice girl and give them grandbabies?” Alex questioned, repeating exactly what his parents had asked him at least once a week for 10 years. 

“Yeah, a nice girl who I’d be married to and then have kids with, not a mutant supremacist who I slept with and then the next time i saw her she tried to kill me.”

“It hardly sounds like a fairytale if you tell it that way, Hank.” Emma remarked, eyebrow raised.  _ Spin it differently, _ she added telepathically. 

“How do  _ that _ I spin it differently?” Hank replied verbally. 

She didn't even use her telepathy, just looked at him, plainly telling him with her eyes to use his brain.

“Maybe you should just say she died,” Alex suggested.  

“Nah, that's the sort of lie that gets messy,” Raven shot back. “I definitely wouldn't mention that she tried to kill you though.” She added. 

“Thanks guys.” Hank said dryly.  “I’ll figure something out I guess.”

“You know theyre gonna try to get you to move back to Illinois right?” Alex said with a smirk. 

“Oh, yeah.” He agreed. There was no question that they’d try. If not when he told them about Tiberius, than the next time they talked, one of them would suggest it, say that his mother could help him with the baby.  

“Would you go?” Raven asked. 

“The day i move back to Dunfee is the day Emma stops wearing white,” he told them easily.  Hank had left Dunfee when he was eleven, and had never looked back. He still had family there of course, his parents, his aunt and his uncles, his paternal grandparents, and his cousin with his wife and three kids.  

Tiberius looked up at him curiously, reaching up and patting his cheek with his baby hand. Hank felt a strange warmth in his chest, before something occurred to him. 

“I haven't had my med today.” 

“How much time do you got?” Alex asked. Hank was very strict with his dose, taking it once every eight hours and not a minute sooner.  Charles had been quite the cautionary tale. 

“About twenty minutes or so.” He managed to say, fear gnawing at his stomach.  He hated to let other adults see his blue form, let alone a baby who would probably be terrified. 

_ God i want a cigarette. Why did i pick now to quit? _

They drove in silence as the minutes ticked down.  

_ Your anxiety is quite loud. Even more so than usual.  _ Emma commented, dusting his mind with a cool calm.  Emma did not subscribe to the Charles Xavier School of Telepathic Ethics.  

Her artificial calming did not last long, and soon his stomach was churning again, his heart fluttering.  

He felt his shoulders shift, the ache of his feet growing too large for even his size 20 shoes. Transformations were always sore and aching, but what was most concerning was Tiberius’s wide eyes.  Hank watched in gripped horror as his hands, wrapped around his son, turned blue and large, retractable claws thankfully tucked away.  He held his breath, readying for the shriek of terror, for tears.  

“Hehehe!” Tiberius giggled, reaching up and petting his blue hair.  

Relief flooded him, along with joy.  The others seemed to relax.  

“Well, he was raised around mutants,” Raven observed as they pulled up to the grocery store in North Salem.  Alex and Emma stayed in the car while he and Raven went inside with Tiberius.  Raven grabbed a basket and walked the aisles until she found the baby stuff.  

“He needs solids and formula at this point.  You should probably get a book about this or something.” She instructed. Hank nodded.  He needed many books. 

She started to fill the basket with jars of baby food, and boxes of cereal.  Hank located the jars of sweet potato and tossed a dozen into the basket. 

“He might be ready for a sippy cup.” Raven commented, throwing two in the basket. 

“I need diapers right?” He asked, looking at the rows of Huggies and Pampers.  

He scanned the boxes and grabbed two large ones under one arm, Tiberius held by the other. He knew the cashier.  It was an older woman, human, but friendly.  

“Hi!” She greeted as she rang them up. “Tell me that adorable baby wasn't left on your doorstep.” Small children had been abandoned at the gates or on the doorstep several times, though none had been younger than three.  

“Uh, no.  He’s my son, actually,” Hank said nervously as he took the bag from her, Raven carrying the diapers. 

“Oh! I didn't know you had children. What's his name?” she asked kindly. 

“Tiberius.” 

She winced. 

“Well isn't that…. Something.  He’s just precious.  You all have a good day now.”  She told them.  

“You too,” Hank called over his shoulder as they left. 

Alex was napping when they got back in the car, which didn't surprise Hank. Recovering from an explosion, even if, as it turned out, your mutation made you resistant to explosions, was exhausting. They all road home in silence as Hank mentally prepared himself to be bombarded by students and faculty. The gates opened to the mostly empty front lawn, most of the kids preferring the grounds in the back. 

“Alex wake up,” Hank said, shaking his friend awake.  

Darwin and Sean appeared to help them unload the car, clearly called by Emma.  

“Cool baby,” Sean commented. Sean still smoked weed like he was 15.  

“Hey, I think it's great man. Congratulations.” Darwin told him.  Darwin had rematerialized about 3 years ago, but hadn't spent all of that time at the mansion.  He, like Hank, was closer to 40 than 30, but didn't look that much older than when they had faced Shaw.  

In fact, decreased aging seemed to be a trait that most mutants had, though how decreased varied. 

“You are absolutely right, Darwin. I see shopping went well,” Charles greeted.  

“Excellently, actually.” Emma said as she handed him his checkbook. 

“Erik found the crib, and he’s actually polished it up a bit for you, it looks quite nice.” Charles maneuvered his wheelchair out of the way as Alex and Darwin passed him carrying boxes. “What on earth did you buy?” 

“A playpen, a doorway bouncer, baby carrier, a stroller, diaper bag, baby swing seat, a high chair, a car seat, and baby clothes.” Raven reeled off. 

“And the kitchen sink,” Hank tacked on helpfully. 

Erik stepped into the garage.  

“You should get him a push toy, when he starts walking.” He suggested, strangely helpful.  Erik looked odd, almost sad, if Hank believed Erik had emotions other than murderous rage, righteousness, contempt, and whatever that was with Charles. 

_ When do babies start walking? Does Tiberius have teeth? _

He really needed to get some books, and fast. 

Kurt popped into the room, a big grin on his face.  

“You have a baby Dr. McCoy! That is very gnarly!” He congratulated, before turning to Raven.  “Guttentag Mama!” 

“Gnarly?” Charles asked, with a raised eyebrow, still fancying himself the cool young man of his days at grad school, though the jury was still out on whether Charles was ever actually as “groovy” as he claimed. 

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. 

“Jubilee is teaching me American slang!” He told them as he picked up a box from the car.  “This goes in your room Dr. McCoy?” Kurt asked politely.  At least the circus had taught him some manners, though they hadn't really done much in the way of schooling.  

“Yes, thanks Kurt.” Hank said, Kurt popping out halfway through.

“Well, that’s the last of it.” He said with a tired sigh, following everyone out of the garage.  Though they had all been huge disappointments at some point since Hank had known them, he was grateful for them today.  Even Erik.  

Jean and Scott were in the main sitting area with Jubilee and Kurt, not looking at all like teenagers who had averted genocide not even a month ago. 

_ I’ve heard worse names than Tiberius.   _ Jean’s voice rippled through his head as she flicked her red hair over her shoulder.  

“Thanks, i guess,” he told her.  

“Yeah, it could definitely be worse.  His name could be Alexander.” Scott, who seemed to be privy to everything Jean was, said as Alex walked in. 

“You’re lucky Charles is here you punk piece of-” 

“Alexander Summers watch you’re language!” Charles scolded. 

“I didn't even fucking swear,” Alex defended. 

Sean and Darwin walked in, followed by Ororo and Pietro.  

“Who’s turn was it to make dinner tonight?” Sean asked.  

_ Damn it. _

“Me, sorry, i completely forgot,” Hank said. 

Everyone shrugged. 

“Pretty good reason to forget, bro. Let’s just order 100 pizzas and tell the kids to go for it.” Pietro suggested.  

The teens in the room all nodded, though Emma and Charles seemed to think that was distasteful. 

“I’ve never had pizza,” Kurt said with a smile.  The boy was always so enthusiastic. 

“That’s a goddamn tragedy.  We gotta get this boy some pizza!” Pietro proclaimed to them.  

Something smelled bad. Like,  _ bad.  _

_ What is that? _ He thought.  It smelled like it was nearby, really nearby.  As close as- Tiberius.  _ Oh. _

Raven, next to him, seemed to smell it too.  

“Come on,” she said, nodding towards the stairs.  He followed her up to his room.  “Alright. Here’s the changing pad. Lay it on the ground, put him on it.” Hank followed her directions carefully.  “Get out the wipes and the new diaper.  Ok, pull the sides of the diaper like this to take it off.”  She demonstrated, unleashing a scent that made Hank full body gag.  “You’ll get used to it.  Alright, hold up his legs. Now take the wipe and wipe front to back until he’s clean.  Then pull that diaper away from him carefully.  Wrap that up, that smells like shit.  Ok. Now open up the new diaper and slide it under him, and stick the ends onto that, not too tight. Good.” 

She picked Tiberius up and sat on the bed while Hank disposed of the dirty diaper.  The crib was against the wall near his bookshelves, antique wood shining.  

“Thank you. For helping me.” He told her.  

She looked thoughtful for  moment.  

“You’re welcome, Hank.  It was no problem.” 

He nodded and smiled.  They weren't ones for big emotional exchanges. At least, not with each other.  

Hank pulled the bedding out of one of the many shopping bags and held it up.  

“Guess i should get started.”    
“I’ll go check on dinner.” She stood up and handed Tiberius to him.  

Tiberius did look tired. Hank went to set him on his bed, but hesitated. 

_ What if he rolls off? _

Eventually, he made a square of pillows around him so he couldn't roll at all, before setting up the crib, and then starting putting together the baby swing seat.  He had vague plans that the swing seat could go in his classroom, while the playpen and doorway bouncer could go in his lab.  Or should the playpen go in the living room?

Tiberius woke up crying.  Panic jolted through Hank, but he told himself not to panic.  He checked his diaper.  Clean.  

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he rifled through the bags for the food, finding baby dishes, but no jars.  Tiberius cried harder. 

There! The jars! He grabbed one at random along with a baby spoon.  Picking Tiberius up seemed to sooth him slightly, but didn't stop the crying.  Hank sat down in his arm chair and balanced the baby, gripping the jar so tight he had to remind himself not to crush it.  

Tiberius abruptly stopped crying when Hank put the spoon to his lips.  To his absolute surprise, he did not eat quietly, but hummed as he ate.  

Hank sighed tiredly as he fed his son.  By the time they were finished, they both had baby food on them, but Tiberius’s eyes were drifting shut.  Hank wiped the baby’s face and pulled a blanket out of one of bags, laying him gently in the crib and covering him with the blanket.  

Hank was exhausted.  He wanted food and a shower and dear god, did he want to smoke. 

He stood, stretching his large blue form.  Hank crept downstairs, joining the kids as the pizza arrived.  Alex was lounging on the sofa and nodded at him when their eyes met.  

“Save me some,” He said, passing them and going to his classroom.  It was empty of course, and dark.  He fiddled with his desk lamp until yellowish light lit up his desk.  He sat down, feeling weighed down, more tired than he’d ever been.  

He shook off some of his tiredness as best he could as he picked up the phone, dialing the number that had been the same as long as he could remember. 

“Hello?” His mama’s voice greeted cheerfully.  

“Hi mama, it’s me.” He replied.  He could picture her in the kitchen on the corded phone after dinner, dad in the next room.  

“Hank honey? What are you doing calling on a saturday? Is everything alright?” She asked, voice filling with concern.  

Hank had called home once a week on sunday evening since he’d left for college at 11.  If he was calling on a day that wasn't sunday, it meant something had happened.  

“No, no, everythings alright.  Just, um, i have some news.”  His eyes closed as he said it.  

“Yes?” She asked.  

“Well, Mama,-” He was cut off by the sound of his dad’s voice asking his mom who was on the phone.  

“It’s Hank dear.” 

“Hank? On a saturday? Has something happened?” 

“No, he says he has news.”

“Well, ask him what his news is.”

“What’s your news honey?” She asked.  

“So, you see. Here’s the thing.  No. Um. No. Do you remember how i went to the Nobel prize ceremony about 2 years ago?” Hank asked, unable to just come out and say it.  

This obviously seemed to his mom like a strange thing to say, and she was right. 

“Yes i think so,” she said slowly.  

“What’s that got to do with this son?” His dad asked.  

They must both have been standing chest to talk on the phone with him. 

“Well.. you see, i met a woman there.” His throat was so dry it felt like he was going to choke to death on his own tongue. 

“And?” they both said in unison. 

“Well, i found out, that, um. She had a baby.” He managed to tell them.  There was silence on the other end of the line. 

“What does he mean she had a baby?” his mama whispered.

“I think he means she had  _ his _ baby,” his dad whispered back. 

“Hank, do you mean to tell us that you had a baby?” His mama asked.  

“Yes? And also she gave me full custody.” He told them quickly.  

“Henry Philip McCoy you put a girl in the family way and didn't tell us?” his mama demanded. 

“Well i didn't know she was pregnant.  The baby is like 7 months old and i just found out today.” he defended. 

“And you say she’s given you full custody? You’re going to raise this child on your own?” His dad questioned. 

“What do you mean you didn't know she was pregnant? When's the last time you saw this girl?” His mom cut off.

Hank took a deep breath. 

“I haven't seen her since the nobel ceremony.  Yes, she gave me full custody.” 

“He says he hasn't seen her since the nobel ceremony,” his mama whispered to his dad. 

“But he said he met her at the nobel ceremony. Oh.  _ Oh my _ .” his dad whispered back, making Hank cringe in embarrassment. 

“Hank, why wouldn't this girl want to keep her baby?” this was from his mama. 

“It’s a really complicated situation mama.  She did want to keep him, but it wasn't what was best.” He managed as an explanation. At least he had managed to follow the advice to not say that she had tried to kill him two weeks ago. 

“Him? It's a boy?” Dad asked.  

Hank, despite his exhaustion and hunger and anxiety, smiled. 

“Yeah, yeah he is. His name is Tiberius.  He’s got my eyes Mama.” he told her. 

“Tiberius?” he braced for another round of What Kind of Name is Tiberius?  “I love that name!” she said gleefully.

His smile grew wider.  

“I gotta go eat dinner now, but I’ll call tomorrow, alright?” he said.  

“Alright honey. Love you,” mama said. 

“Take care of yourself son,” dad said.  

They hung up the phone.  He tossed his onto his desk with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

It was barely 8, but he was ready for bed. Hank sat forward in his chair and rifled through his desk drawers until he found the little box he was looking for.  He tapped out a cigarette and lit, eyes closing in relief. 

“Hey bozo, i managed to save a pizza,” Alex swaggered in with a pizza box. “Didn't you quit smoking last week?” 

“Third time is not the charm apparently.” He said, handing Alex the box, and then the lighter.  

“How’d telling your folks go?” Alex asked, lighting the cigarette. 

Hank shrugged. 

“Could have been worse. Can’t imagine how my 87 year old grandmother is going to react to my baby born out of wedlock though.” 

Alex huffed a laugh and laugh and rubbed his face. 

“Well, at least you’re 39. Scott’s gonna get Jean pregnant any day here.” He countered with hard laugh. 

Hank nodded. “Or Lorna,” he added. 

Alex groaned, face in his hand. 

“Shit. I forgot about Lorna.  What do you think? Probability of him knocking one of them up?” he said, cigarette hanging from his lips.  

Hank shrugged. 

“Well, not knowing anything about family history of fertility, and just applying what i know about the present teen birth rate combined with my theory about increased mutant fertility, and the uh.. Unique nature of the relationship.  Or relationships? I’d say a 20% chance.” He estimated. Alex groaned again. 

“Fuck.” 

“Didn't you give him the talk or something?” Hank questioned. 

“Yeah, of fucking course. What kind of a big brother do you think i am, dick?” 

Hank stubbed his cigarette out in his desk ashtray, tapping another out of the box. If he was off the wagon, he was going to be way off the wagon.  

“Well, what did you tell him?” he asked.  

Alex shrugged. 

“The normal stuff. Don’t get the clap, if a prostitute seems really cheap there’s a reason for that, you know, what my dad told me.”

It was Hank’s turn to groan. If the rest of his day didn't take years off his life, this conversation certainly would.

“Alex, that’s not “the normal stuff” jesus christ. The talk is supposed to be like, consent and birth control, not the finer points of sex work.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes.  

Alex flicked his cigarette into the ash tray.  

“Shit. Well, maybe you should talk to him about that stuff, you’re the doctor.” he suggested. 

“You’re his brother asshole, you do it.  Better do it fast too, Pietro mentioned that Lorna was coming over tomorrow.” He told his friend with a chuckle, before taking one last drag from his cigarette and stubbing it out.  He didn't pull out a third one though, instead examining his friend’s face.

A thought occurred to him.

“Alex?  What did you mean when you said that i was the only one here who should have a baby?” He asked.  

Alex shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. 

“I never said that, bozo.  You must have heard me wrong.” 

“I have an eidetic memory and my hearing range is more similar to a cat than a human. I know you said it.  So what did you mean?” Hank shot back.  

Alex made and a face and grabbed a slice of pizza, chewing with his mouth open.  Hank grimaced. 

“Have some damn manners and close your mouth,” he told Alex, taking his own slice out of the box. 

“You see, that’s what i mean! You’re such a dad. You’re always helping these brats with their homework and trying to make them eat vegetables. The other day you spent an hour explaining to Pietro that him occasionally passing out wasn't healthy and then sat there until he’d passed a test on the food groups.” 

“He thought flintstones vitamins were a substitute to fruits and vegetables.” Hank huffed. 

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who takes care of everyone.  You with a kid make sense.” Alex said, surprisingly open.  

Hank chewed his pizza, turning over what he’d said. 

“Thank you, Alex.” he said. 

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Alex brushed off. 

Sometimes, his friends were really great. 

“Now, you tell me something. What kind of foot fetish did this girl have?” Alex grinned.  

Usually, his friends sucked. 

“Fuck off,” Hank groaned. 

“No i really want to know! Or was it her fantasy to fuck sasquatch?” he asked.  

“You know, it wasn't but could you blame me. You’ve pretty much cornered the market on girls who are into short arrogant dicks.” 

“There’s nothing short about this dick,” Alex cackled. 

“Are you almost finished?” Hank asked in exasperation. 

“That’s what she said!” Alex shouted gleefully. 

Hank put his head in his hands. He became aware that he could faintly hear something, high pitched. Like a wail. 

“I think i hear Tiberius crying,” he said, standing from the desk. 

“Good luck,” Alex called as he left the room.  The living room had calmed down, most of the kids having drifted off in their little groups. Hank climbed the stairs, the baby’s cries getting louder as he approached his room.  

Tiberius was still lying in the crib, but red faced, eyes streaming tears.  He didn't smell, and he’d just eaten. 

Hank picked him up carefully, holding him against his chest, and began gently bouncing up and down without even thinking. He stood by the dark window, bouncing the crying boy.  

“Shhh sshhhh.  It’s alright.  Everything’s alright.” He murmured.  This didn't do much to sooth Tiberius. An idea occurred to him. “There's  [ antimony ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antimony) ,  [ arsenic ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arsenic) ,  [ aluminum ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aluminum) ,  [ selenium ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selenium) , and  [ hydrogen ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydrogen) and  [ oxygen ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxygen) and  [ nitrogen ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nitrogen) and  [ rhenium ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhenium) ,” He started singing quietly.  “And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium, and iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium.” Tiberius hushed.  His eyes were fixed on Hank as he sang. “Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium, and lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium, and gold, protactinium and indium and gallium, and iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium.”  His son’s eyes began to drift shut.  “There's yttrium, ytterbium, actinium, rubidium, and boron, gadolinium, niobium, iridium, there's strontium and silicon and silver and samarium, and bismuth, bromine, lithium, beryllium, and barium.” He continued, watching as Tiberius sunk into sleep.  “ There's holmium and helium and hafnium and erbium, and phosphorus and francium and fluorine and terbium, and manganese and mercury, molybdenum, magnesium, dysprosium and scandium and cerium and cesium.” he finished singing, cutting the song short as he lay Tiberius carefully in his crib. 

He stood there for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, listening to his slow breathing.  Maybe he could do this after all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ppl in this fic are gonna be doing moderately unsafe stuff in terms of babies cause it was the 80's. Specifically for this chapter: Don't put anything in a crib with a baby except maybe a light blanket, and always put a baby to sleep on its back, otherwise you risk the baby suffocating.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later.

He could not do this. 

Tiberius was teething.  It was Friday morning, before classes began.  Tiberius had cried all night from pain, and Hank didn't blame the poor baby, but he was exhausted. He had finally soothed him to just a low grade fussy in time for breakfast. Hank knew he couldn't try to bring the baby with him to class. They wouldn't get anything done.  He hurried through the dining room, eyes scanning for a yellow jacket, finally spotting it and it's wearer.  

“Jubilee, i need a favor.” He said as he walked up.  She smiled at him, and gave Tiberius a wave.

“What do you need Dr. McCoy?” she asked politely. 

“I need you to take Tiberius today.  He’s teething and i can’t teach and have him with me.  I’ll pay you, of course.” He promised, realizing how wrecked he must have looked after getting no sleep the night before.  

“Of course i can take him, but you know I’m only free for the first half of the day right?” Jubilee told him.  

“What? Since when?” He questioned.  

“I moved my classes around to make room for gymnastics.  Could you ask Alex?” She suggested. 

Hank shook his head. 

“No, he starts teaching today.” 

_ That  _ had taken some doing, but Alex had finally been convinced to stick around and be the PE teacher.  Their previous PE teacher had decided to take a long hiatus after a slight incident during a dodgeball game.  Hank thought a hiatus was a bit of an overreaction.  The fireball had barely grazed him. 

Anyway, Alex wasn't an option. 

“Well, I’ll take him for the first half and maybe you can find someone for the second half?” She offered.  

Hank shrugged.  

“That’ll work. I’ve got his diaper bag here, and he’s got some teething rings in the fridge. He’s really cranky.  Formula and food is in the bag, extra diapers and wipes, his pacifier, a blanket. Here’s the spare key to my room in case you can get him to go down for a nap.” The bell rung as he handed over the key and his baby. 

“Got it.” she nodded.  

“I gotta go, thank you so much.” He started to walk to hs classroom quickly, already late, before backpedaling to where she was still sitting with Tiberius on her lap.  “During your last physical your electrolyte balance was looking a little off, probably because of the team training.  Eat a banana.” He advised, before hurrying to class. 

The teenagers were talking as he came in and rushed through roll call. His first class of the day was physical science.  

More than a few members of their staff had called it quits after the explosion, so there had been some shuffling of the schedule.  He and Charles had split up the math and science classes between them, Sean continued to be their arts department, Alex had taken the PE classes.  Charles had batted his bunny eyes at Erik and gotten him to teach the language classes, Raven had been convinced to take most of the social studies classes. Emma taught all of the business classes.  Since summer break was coming up they were making do by shuffling the english classes between them.  

Kurt was sitting up front, as always. He was a little older than most of the kids in the class, due to the circus not being big on formal schooling.  The boy was bright though, and caught on quickly, and asked questions when he didn't.  Hank was also tutoring him after classes ended, helping him catch up with his education. 

“Alright class, today we are starting chapter 20, on Heat and Temperature.”

 

He hadn't found anyone who could trade off with Jubilee for the second half of the day by the time lunch rolled around, so he’d just have to try to teach with Tiberius.  

She looked a little tired when they found each other in the dining room, handing him the baby and the bag.  

“How was he?” Hank asked as they sat to eat lunch together, each table with it's own bowls of the food.  

“He was fine, fussy like you said.”  She replied, as Scott and Jean, joined at the hip, sat down. 

“Do either of you have anything after this?” He asked, truly desperate to consider Scott.  Jean was Charles’s TA, she was responsible so long as her powers behaved, but Scott.  He was a good kid of course, heroic even, but just because you trust someone to be there to save the world does not mean you trust them to watch your baby for a few hours.  

“We’re both busy.  Sorry we can’t help with Tiberius.” Jean said.  

Kurt popped into the seat next to Jubilee just as Pietro joined them.  He’d gotten his cast taken off the day before, but he was on strict instructions not to run, which meant he was definitely running.  

“Are we still able to meet after classes Dr. McCoy?” Kurt asked politely.  

“Of course Kurt.” Hank assured the boy.  Ororo sat down quietly, arm blocking her food.  Hank assumed it was a habit picked up from her years before coming to the school.  

This did not stop her from scrutinizing her teammates plates.  Hank did the same.

Pietro emptied his heaping plate quickly, and went back for seconds.  Scott wolfed down his plate, but didn't go back for seconds.  Jean ate slowly, but had a healthy portion size, though she could have gone heavier on the greens. Jubilee ate quickly, and then pulled candy out of her purse.  Kurt ate little, and didn't get seconds.  Ororo ate the food she had, and had multiple servings.  Occasionally she’d reach out and put more food on someone’s plate when they weren't looking.

Hank fed Tiberius some of his applesauce as he watched his team.  Next training session they’d have to discuss healthy eating habits. 

“We’re supposed to go to town today with Ms. Frost for marketing class.”  Jean commented.  

“What are you doing in town?” Ororo asked. 

“She hasn't told us yet.” Jean shrugged. 

Hank chuckled.  That sounded like Emma alright.  

“It’s supposed to rain today, take an umbrella.” He told her.  

She nodded.  

“Lorna says she wants to go here next year.” Pietro mentioned, on his third plate. 

“We know.” Scott said, just a teensy bit smug. 

Hank did not miss Jubilee’s eyeroll.  

“Why does she want to change schools?” He asked, hoping it wasn't simply because of Jean and Scott.  

“Cause Erik is here now. She controls metal too, and she says she wants to learn from him or whatever.” The bell rung just then.  Hank stood, reminding all of the kids to bring their plates to the dirty dishes area.  He grabbed a fresh teething ring from the fridge before hurrying to teach calculus. 

He grabbed the baby carrier out of his desk drawer and clipped Tiberius into it, leaving his hands free to write on the board.  Tiberius gummed on the teething ring while he instructed the class, and managed to stay happy until the next period, when it seemed the teeth were paining him again.  Hank took off the baby carrier, setting him in the baby swinger in the hopes that the rocking would sooth him.  

_ Why did Betsy think i could do this?  _ He wondered as he drew the water cycle on the board.  

One of the girls raised their hands.  This class was more of the younger kids.  

“Yes, Anna?” He called on her.  

“Why is Tiberius in such a bad mood today?” She asked.  

“He’s teething and it hurts. Any questions on the water cycle?” He tried to guide the class back to the topic. 

No one said anything.  

“Alright. Now, the water cycle is also called the hydrologic cycle, write that down, it will be on the test.” He began to tell them as Tiberius began to whimper, rubbing at his cheek.  He picked him up out of the swing seat, holding him too his chest as he continued teaching. “Where do we get water?” he asked them all, rocking Tiberius back and forth.

Devin’s hand shot up. Hank nodded for him to speak.

“Rivers!” the young boy answered wrongly.  The rest of the class giggled, making Devin blush and sink into his seat.   

“Well, some communities do get their water from rivers, that’s true.  But where do the rivers get that water?” he asked the small class.  Most of their students were over 13, but they had a dozen or so kids younger than that.  

Hank found himself yawning as he called on Michelle. 

“Rain from the clouds?” she answered timidly.

“Yes, exactly!” he replied, drawing an arrow from the clouds to the stream he had drawn. He pulled a napkin out of his desk and wiped the drool off of Tiberius’s face.  At least he wasn't as cranky as he had been the night before.  

 

The next period was calculus and had just three kids.  It used to be six, but some parents hadn't liked their kids attending a school that had blown up. 

They were mostly self directed, so he was able to give them their assignment and step out for a few moments.  

He had Tiberius in the baby carrier again, and went to the kitchen to get him a fresh teething ring. Alex was there, holding a bag of frozen peas to Jordan’s head.  

“Classes going alright?” he asked jokingly.  

“Smooth sailing.” Alex said dryly.  Tiberius was pacified by the ring for the time being.  

“What happened?” Hank asked, gently lifting the kids head to check his pupils. Looked fine.

“Oh, he wasn't looking and Malcolm, that kid with the scales, whammed him with a dodgeball.” Alex explained.  Hank turned Jordan’s head from side to side, checking for injuries.

“Alright, well, he looks fine.” He pronounced, nodding to Alex before going back to class. 

The kids were talking when he got back but work was being done, so he let them continue, doing his own work at his desk as Tiberius swung in his seat.  Hank’s work was a lesson plan for the new x-men.

They were decent kids, but only time would tell if they could pull this off.  

Pietro was eldest, and showed a rare amount of maturity and responsibility with his younger teammates.  It wasn't much, but it was something.  Scott was more of the unofficial leader, though it remained to be seen if he could make the necessary decisions when in the field.  

Jean was a wild card, full of unspeakable power that she still occasionally lost hold of, though that was happening less and less. She guided Scott of course, but didn't control him. 

Jubilee had ambitions other than x-men, but she seemed ready for the challenge. She had organized the kids and led them to town after they had woken up with the school destroyed and their headmaster kidnapped. Her quick thinking, resourcefulness and instinct to assist had led to her appointment to the team.

Kurt was kind, and self-sacrificing. The boy remained constantly upbeat, but Hank worried about him. He often over-exerted himself during training, and allowed some of his more confident team mates to push him around, though Hank was sure they didn't know they were doing it.

Ororo was quiet, but she watched over her teammates like a hawk, and practically worshipped Raven.  Hank didn't know much about her, nobody seemed to, but she was steady and calm.  He hoped that one day she would grow to be the voice of reason.  

Hank wanted them to learn to lean on each other.  He mapped out some team building exercises, but none of them seemed right.  He’d have to give this more thought later.  The bell rung as he tapped his pen against his desk in contemplation.  

“Have a good day guys,” he called to his students as they left.  Kurt poked his head into the classroom, a shy smile on his face as he took his usual seat across from Hank.  “Hi Kurt,” Hank smiled.  

“Hallo Dr. McCoy, how are you?” Kurt asked, smiling at Tiberius as he gummed on his teething ring. 

“Oh I’m fine.  How are you though Kurt? Adjusting to the change well?” Hank questioned casually, pulling out the work he had set aside for their tutoring session.  

“Ja ja, everyone is wonderful!” he grinned.  

“And the food? Not missing any german food to much?” Hank asked.  

Kurt cocked his head in confusion, but shrugged good naturedly. 

“No, Dr. McCoy, I’m alright.  Why?” The boy inquired.  Hank sighed.  

“No reason, Kurt.  Just want to make sure you’re adjusting well.”  He assured him.  “Alright, let’s get started.  You did much better on your last algebra test, but I can see where you went wrong on a few problems.” 

He stood, going to write on the board.  

Tiberius, right on cue, started to cry again.  Hank picked him up, rocking back and forth, as he erased the diagram on the water cycle.  

“Is his tooth still hurting?” Kurt asked, looking sympathetic.  

“Yes.  I asked my mom, and she said i screamed for a week straight when i was teething, so i suppose i should be grateful.” Hank joked tiredly. 

Kurt laughed aloud. 

“If you need to go rest, we don’t have to do this today.”  He offered. 

Hank smiled. 

“No no, i enjoy our meetings, Kurt, don’t worry.  Now, when you’re trying to find the variable, you must remember to do to one side what you do to the other.” He wrote some problems down on the board.  The boy disappeared from his seat, reappearing next to Hank to examine the problems.    

He continued to gently rock Tiberius as he helped Kurt work out the problems.

Towards the end of the tutoring session, when Hank was looking over an essay for Kurt, who was nervous about his ability to write in english, Raven came to his door.  She watched them quietly for a moment, before clearing her throat.  

Kurt looked up from the essay and, of course, gave her a big smile.  

“Hallo Mama!” he said.  

“Hello Kurt.  Scott and Jean were looking for you by the lake,” she told him.  Kurt looked at Hank, who nodded. 

“We’re pretty much finished for the day, you can go. Oh, and this essay was very good by the way.  Your english is better than you think,” Hank assured him, his heart warming when Kurt’s face lit up at the compliment.  

“Danke Dr. McCoy!” He said happily, before disappearing from the room.  

Raven, instead of leaving immediately, looked around his classroom casually.  

“You look terrible,” she finally said, sitting down in front of him.  Hank laughed quietly. 

“Thanks.” 

“How’s Kurt doing?” She asked.  

“He’s made a lot of improvements for three weeks. He’s a great kid, Raven.” He told her.  

“No thanks to me. But how’s he doing, other than academically?” Raven shifted uncomfortably. 

“Well.  He doesn’t eat much. He lacks confidence. The other kids could pretty much convince him to do anything. He flinches sometimes.” Hank went down the list.  With every new point, Raven’s face turned stonier and stonier.  “I guess kids shouldn’t run away to the circus after all.” He jested halfheartedly. 

“Guess not. Is there anything that can be done?” She asked, arms crossed.  

“Well, I’m trying to give factual compliments to give him more confidence. I’m planning to talk to the team about nutrition.” Hank offered. 

“Is that all we can do?” She demanded.  

“I don’t know. I’ve only been at it for a few weeks.” Hank defended.

Raven leaned back in her chair.  

“Sorry.” She murmured.  

“He’s just been through a lot.  Some time at the school, with friends, people who care about him. He’ll be alright.” Hank tried to assure her.  

She sighed. 

“Guess I’ll try that.  You’ve gotten pretty good at helping people.” Raven said. 

Hank looked up at her from rubbing soothing circles on Tiberius’s back. 

“Have I?”

Raven laughed.

“Do you have any idea what to do with yourself if you’re not taking care of someone?” She asked. 

He cocked his head in question. 

“I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? You spent ten years making sure Charles didn't kill himself, then the school, and now Tiberius and Kurt.” Raven explained. 

Hank shrugged. 

“There’s just always someone to look out for isn't there?” He justified.

Raven looked out the window, to where you could see the students playing on the grounds. 

“Well, you sure manage to find them.” She told him as she stood up.  “I gotta go.”

Hank watched as she left.  It was strange to think he had once thought of marrying her.

Tiberius started to fuss again, rubbing at his cheeks.  

“Shhh shhh. I know, it hurts.”  Hank soothed, getting out of his chair and rocking the baby around the room.  Singing might help, but he was so tired that for the life of him, he couldn't think of a single song, except for one.  It was worth a shot.  “Take me out to the ball game; take me out to the crowd;” He sang softly.  “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if i never get back. Let me root, root, root for the home team,

If they don't win, it's a shame. For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out, at the old ball game.”  For some reason, the song was working.  Tiberius was quiet.  

Hank sang the chorus twice more until the baby had pretty much gone down for a nap.  He smiled, grabbing his keys and locking up his classroom, making his way to the lounge on the teachers only floor.  Emma was there of course, looking over spreadsheets. 

_ Hello Hank _ , she greeted.  _ Tiberius is still teething I see. _

Hank walked past her, knowing she would get his message of putting Tiberius in his crib. He opened the door to his room, setting the baby in his crib as gently as possible. He watched him sleep for a moment, soft and content. It occurred to him that Tiberius would not be a baby forever. That he would grow up, and be  _ somebody.  _ The thought that Hank would be so directly responsible for who that somebody was was terrifying, but more and more it appealed to him.  

He pulled his medication out of his bedside table, rolled up his sleeve, and carefully injected himself.  He rubbed the injection spot before disposing of the needle and grabbing the baby monitor, heading back out to the lounge area.   

Emma was still out there, curled gracefully on the settee.  

Hank sat in the arm chair next to her, closing his eyes in tiredness.  

“It’s always something, isn't it?” Emma observed. 

“You got that right.” Hank replied. She smiled a little. 

_ How are your parents?  _ She asked, covering the spreadsheet in her hands with red x’s. 

“They’re fine.  Tried to convince me to move home, just like i said they would.” He told her tiredly.

“You’ll have to visit,” Emma surmised.  He bobbed his head in agreement.  

_ This summer _ , he told her in his head.  

“That should be nice.” She said, a tad bit dryly.  Hank knew she was scanning over the many horrible scenarios of things going wrong that he had created in his head.

Sometimes it was unnerving to know she was doing that, and doubly unnerving to know she knew you found it unnerving, but generally it was nice to not have to figure out how to say what you meant  She already knew what you meant. 

“How’s the rest of your family reacted?” Emma asked, though of course she could wander through his mind and peruse any information she wanted, she rarely did.  She said it was because his mind was crowded, whatever that meant. 

“Okay,” he said verbally.  _ Grandparents and uncles and aunt were a little scandalized but they’ve come around.  My cousin sent his congratulations.   _

Emma raised her eyebrow slightly at the imparted mental image of his cousin Matthew who owned a hardware store in Dunfee, had married his high school sweetheart, and had three kids. It was easy to see who was the weird cousin at McCoy family reunions. 

_ How.. Pedestrian,  _ she commented, with a tone that suggested her mental nose was wrinkled. 

Hank laughed.  Matthew was a good man, but Emma’s complete dismissal of normality was rather comforting. 

“These children wouldn’t know how to play the stock market if they were insider traders.” 

“They are twelve, Emma,” He shook his head with a chuckle.  

“So?”  _ When i was their age, i was already implanting bad ideas in the minds of my family’s business rivals.  _

Emma never spoke about her childhood.  The most Hank knew was that she had been born frightfully wealthy. 

_ Well, isn't that another piece of the puzzle _ , He told her.  She looked up from the spreadsheets and gave him a wink.  

Alex walked in and dropped onto the end of the settee like a bag of rocks.  

“These kids are crazy.” He grunted. 

“That was the opinion of our previous PE teacher, yes.” Hank chuckled as Alex rubbed his face.  

_ I should hope that you won’t be as cowardly as he was.  It was just a few fireballs.  _ Emma told them, having switched over to completely nonverbal. 

“Nah.  They don’t scare me,” Alex said, a tired cocky grin on his face.  

A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Emma, do we know who’s staying here for the summer?” He asked.  Every year, there was generally at least one student who could not be returned to their legal guardian, whether because their parents had rejected their mutant children or something else.  

_ I’m not sure anyone has signed up to remain as a student. Obviously Scott and Kurt will be remaining with Alex and Mystique.  _

“What about um, Fred?” He asked.  

_ His aunt has agreed to take him.  _

“Bridget?” 

_ Staying with a friends family.  _

“Huh. No students over the summer.  That’d be a first. What would Charles even do?” He mused.

_ Erik _ , Emma murmured in his head, and Alex’s judging by his choked laugh. 

“Well, I’ve got to be getting down to the lab.” Hank told them as he stood from his seat, hurrying down the stairs to the first floor elevators, the baby monitor in his hand. Generally he would have brought Tiberius with him, but he’d been so cranky today that Hank hadn’t wanted to wake him.  

The door to his lab was more like the door of a nuclear bunker than anything. Jean had been able to salvage everything, except for the plane. Which made sense, when thought about in the overall context of Hank’s life. 

Whatever. That plane didn't even have a way to strap in Tiberius’s car seat.  

Hank hummed to himself as he sat down at one of his tables. There were experiments to do, things to build. It was exciting. 

Normally he’d start smoking once he was safe from the chance of the kids getting second hand smoke, but he had quit smoking.  For the 4th time. 

He worked on a few things, running tests.  Mostly, he thought of the xmen, and what could be done. 

The last time he’d gotten this chance he had blown it, they’d all blown it, the only ones who hadn’t had a hand in ruining everything were Sean and Alex, and Darwin if he counted. 

He would not mess things up again.  The world needed the xmen. Mutants needed the xmen. 

The kids needed training, they needed combat experience, they needed to learn how to minimize damage, how to evacuate citizens.  Still there were the issues of teenagers, and one rather immature 26 year old, working together on something so high pressure. They needed team building. 

The kids were already forming close friendships between them, but Hank felt they could do more.  Though what, he wasn't sure. 

Scott made trouble, though Hank had known Alex when he was fresh out of prison, and by comparison Scott was a daffodil in springtime. Jean was still unsure of herself, but her confidence grew daily with the aide of peers who weren't frightened of her and the combined tutoring of Charles and Emma. Pietro was doing something for the first time in his life, which meant there was no precedent for how well this would go, except for the precedent of him being 26 and this being the first time he had done something.  There was also the issue of Erik being Pietro’s father, which was sure to be a dramatic mess once Pietro got up the nerve to tell him. Jubilee was bright and bubbly, but hadn't even been tested in combat. She got on well with the others, though she and Scott occasionally butted heads. Kurt was, well, Kurt. Ororo remained mysterious, and though the other kids seemed to like her, Hank could still sense a distance between them. 

Perhaps the problem was that they were treating this like regular teenage friendship, and not the unique blend of friends, colleagues, workers and leaders, and soldiers that it would have to be.  

It was not wrong that they wanted friendship of course, it was that Hank had no idea how to foster the other aspects of their relationships.  The first xmen had been short lived, lasting less than two months, and disintegrating in their first conflict, so in a lot of ways, this was his first time on a team too. Raven had had more team experience with Erik’s brotherhood, but they weren't much of a model. 

Hank tapped his pen against his desk. He glanced at his phone. It was friday, so he could call his folks in a few days and let him know what his plans were for the summer. They owned and worked a soybean farm in Illinois, and while thankfully the planting would be finished by the time he got there, there was always work to be done on machinery and the animals. Undoubtedly there'd be improvements to the barn in preparation for winter, and of course there was still mowing roadsides, weed management, watering and fertilizing, and prepping for the next season.  Every summer as a child he and cousin Matthew would farm with his dad.  It hadn’t been particularly enjoyable, especially for a nerdy young boy who just wanted to return to his basement laboratory, but it sure had given him a work ethic.  _ Not to mention it taught me to get along with Matthew.  _

Matthew was older by a few years, so he hadn't been much help with the bullies during school, but once school was over Hank could usually run over to the high school across the street and into his protection. 

Though five years separated them, the summertime on the farm always brought them together. They’d sunburn and eat apples and hide from his dad in the barn loft when it came time to he tried to get them to come inside and bath.  

_ I’m an idiot, _  he thought. How had he not thought of it sooner? Farming would be great teambuilding!  The kids could learn how to take directions, do good work even when it wasn't glamorous or cool or exciting, They’d learn to rely on each other for more than a few hours of sheer terror.  They’d learn about the day to day of trust and reliance. He’d have to discuss it with Mystique, and of course Charles, and if they approved it his parents, but he didn't see why anyone would say no. 

He could bring the kids with him when he went and visited his folks.  Dunfee was pretty safe, or as safe as it got for mutants. In terms of small town America, it was a utopia. 

The baby monitor crackled as Tiberius began to cry.  It was time for dinner anyway. Hank hurried upstairs as the cries became shrieks, and pushed into the dark room.  Tiberius held his arms out when Hank looked into the crib. Hank carefully slid his hands under him and lifted him out of the crib, bringing him to his chest.  It was strange, but those were the moments he felt most like a dad. The weight and swing of lifting the baby, the warmth against his chest, the impossibly small hand clutching his shirt collar. 

Hank rocked around the room, humming the melody of a song he didn't know the words to.  

_ Dinner is ready,  _ Charles told him from somewhere downstairs.  Hank grabbed a bottle of baby food and headed downstairs with the calmed Tiberius. 

Most of the kids were in the dining room already, teenagers being bottomless pits. Hank sat down next to Alex, Darwin, and Charles.  

The staff had made Lasagna and garlic bread for breakfast, with a salad of course. 

Hank fed Tiberius first, spooning the jar of sweet potato and turkey puree into the baby’s mouth. 

The guys talked about Alex’s first day of classes and the new girl Darwin was seeing while Hank fed Tiberius, occasionally adding to the conversation when he had something to say. Raven sat down next to Alex and filled up her plate as Hank wiped the baby’s face clean and filled up his own plate, stomach growling.  

“I had an idea,” he told Raven.  

“Oh?” She asked, grabbing several hunks of garlic bread. 

“So you know how we were discussing team building? I was thinking they could work on my parents soybean farm this summer for a few weeks.”  He suggested as he scooped a heaping portion of lasagna onto his plate, Tiberius still in his lap. 

Charles’s brow furrowed and Raven’s face took on a smooth thoughtful expression.

“The whole summer?” Charles asked.  Hank shook his head. 

“Just for three weeks, a month.  Hard work with no glory, they’d learn to coordinate with each other, to take instructions.”  He continued excitedly. 

Charles was starting to look convinced, but it seemed Raven was still considering. 

“Farming isn't exactly combat,” she said.  

Hank nodded. 

“It’s not, but they’ve already shown they could work together in combat. This is to make sure they can keep it together when the world isn't depending on them,” he argued. “Raven. The first xmen fought well together, but when it came down to it, it was our time out of uniform that ended us.” 

She fixed her eyes on his face, and nodded a little. 

“And your parents would be alright with this?” Raven asked.  

Hank bobbed his head quickly. 

“I mean, i haven't asked, but they could always use help.” 

“We’d have to get their parents to sign off on this.” Charles said.  

Hank looked at Raven and Alex.  Kurt had pretty much slipped through the cracks of East Germany’s government, so it turned out Raven still had all parental rights, and Alex had taken over as Scott’s guardian.  

They both nodded.

“Good luck trying to get those kids to farm,” Alex said with a smirk. 

“Alright, and Ororo is my ward, the papers just came today,” Charles said.

“Pietro is a legal adult.” Raven said. 

“So that just leaves Jean and Jubilee. And Scott’s going, so Jean will want to go.” Hank reasoned. 

“Fantastic.  What a marvelous idea Hank.” Charles smiled. 

“In theory,” Emma said as she sat down, already knowing exactly what they were talking about.  _ But mutant children in that little town? _  She mentally continued to all of them. 

“It’s actually pretty safe for Mutants by comparison to other places.” Hank assured. 

_ A concern of course, but i was referring to what the children might do.  _ “Particularly those children.”  She indicated the team’s table with a slight tilt of her chin. Lorna was visiting for the weekend and she sat between Scott and Jean, leaning in as Scott murmured in her ear, her hand in Jean’s.  

Pietro was completely distracted by his sister’s display as he was catching pieces of garlic bread in his mouth, thrown by Jubilee and Kurt. Ororo was making the game more difficult with a miniature dry lightning storm.  

“Hmmm.”  Was all Charles said as they all looked at them.  “That is something to consider.” 

“I still think it’s a good idea.  It’ll give me time to do some work of my own,” Raven said.  Work of her own generally meant busting up Mutant fighting rings or experimentation facilities, things of that nature. 

“I’ll talk to my parents about it tonight then.” He’d normally wait till sunday, but he was excited about this.  

Tiberius reached up and patted his face as Hank finished eating.  

“Someone needs a bath,” he all but cooed at the baby as he brought his dirty dishes to the dishes station and went upstairs to his room.  In his room he turned on the lamp, filling the room with rosy light.  First he filled the tub with a few inches of warm water, and then began pulling off Tiberius’s little socks, and then his onesie, and finally his diaper.  

Tiberius splashed excitedly in the tub when he touched the water, Hank kneeling down to wash him.  

“Alright, so we're going to visit your grandparents in a few weeks.” He started to tell his son, just to talk to him.  “Now, my grandparents are still alive, and they’re pretty liberal for old people, but they still might not like me and your mom not being married. Don’t worry about them.  All you gotta do is look adorable, and there won't be any complaints.”  He chatted. 

“Daddy.” Tiberius said out of the blue, reaching up and patting his face.   

Hank looked at Tiberius, mouth slack.  _ Oh my god.   _

Hank wasn't much of a crier.  Ok, yes he was.  He teared up, almost blubbering immediately. 

_ My, oh my.  What a momentous moment.  _ Emma drawled from downstairs. 

“He said daddy!” He said to her, knowing she’d be able to detect the vocalized thought.  “You said daddy!” Hank grinned at Tiberius.  Tiberius splashed the water in excitement, a grin on his face. 

Hank washed his son, grinning from ear to ear the whole time.  Tiberius squaeled in laughter when he picked him up out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel.  

Hank put a fresh diaper on Tiberius and made him a bottle of formula.  He settled down into his armchair and gave him his bottle, watching happily as he drank.  

Tiberius finished the bottle quickly and Hank set it aside. 

“Can you say daddy again?” He asked Tiberius as he put him in his pajamas. “Come on, daddy.  Daddy?”  

“Daddy,” Tiberius repeated with a gummy smile. His heart practically burst.  He’d never  loved like this. 

Hank sat and read while Tiberius fell asleep in his crib before he went downstairs with the baby monitor.  

“Hank! Congratulations!” Charles said from where he was playing chess with Erik. 

Hank smiled and ducked his head.  

Once he sat down the labs he was able to put his head in his hands, still smiling.  He dialed his parents number, pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?”  His dad answered. 

“Dad! It’s Hank.”

“Hi Hank, it’s not sunday.  Nothing’s wrong is it?” His father often thought something had happened when Hank called.  He was often right, though Hank would never tell him the truth. 

“No nothing’s wrong dad. In fact, Tiberius just said his first word!” He practically gushed. 

“Well hey, ain’t that somethin’! Edna, get in here, Tiberius just said his first word!” His dad called.  

“What did he say?” His mama asked eagerly. 

“I was giving him a bath and telling him about visiting you and he just said daddy,” he told her, grinning. 

His parents made appropriate noises of excitement. 

“Now Hank, you outta remember to take lots of pictures,” mama counseled him sagely. 

“Yes mama, I’ll get the camera out.  Now, the reason I’m actually calling is that we have a um, a group of students and a young man here at the school. And we’ll, i think they could benefit from spending some time on the farm,” He told them.  _ Damn, we need a way better cover than “group.”  _ He thought.   _ Chess club? Future farmers of America?  _ “I think it’d teach them some good skills to work on the farm for a few weeks, maybe a month.”

“We could use the help. How many kids?” His dad asked. 

“Six. Three girls three boys.” 

“We got the space.  Bring em,” his mama declared.  “Now, do any of these kids have a particularly unusual appearance? I only ask cause your Nana’s heart isn't what it used to be and i don’t want her to be surprised.”

“That would be Kurt. He’s blue. Has a tail. Um. three fingers on each hand.  That’s pretty much it though.” 

“Alright, we’ll start prepping her.  Do these kids really want to spend a month on a soybean farm?” His dad questioned. 

No, they didn't.

“Yeah, yeah they do.  They’re good kids, i can't wait for you to meet them.” Hank told them. 

“We’d love to meet your students son,” His dad said. 

“You know, if you’re going to be staying a full month, Dorothy McGullin’s daughter Karen will be home.  She’s a secretary in Omaha, maybe you two have lunch!” His mama had a scheming tone to her voice. 

“You know mama that sounds nice and all, but really i just want to spend time with you and dad. Plus, I’m not really looking to date right now,” he tried to tell her. 

“Just think about it, we’re not getting any younger Hank.  Oh glory be Norton, look at the time.  We’ve got to go honey, bye, love you.”

“Love you,” he told them before hanging up. 

Alright. Now they just had to tell the kids about their summertime adventure. 

Hank walked back up to his room, quietly slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door. He ran the shower and stripped, stretching his back as before he stepped inside.  It made sense that his mom would try to set him up on a date, but in general, he didn't date. His last relationship had been a year ago, and hadn't lasted very long. Melody, the girl, had broken up with him after a month. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to date, it just seemed to never happen, he reflected.  Recently, the closest he had gotten to a real relationship had been Abigail Brand, but she’d gone back to her planet five years before. 

 

“A farm?” Jubilee gawped. 

“Yes!” Charles smiled.  

The kids sat on the couch in shock.

“For how long?” Pietro asked. 

“A month,” Hank answered, keeping an eye on Tiberius, who was in his playpen with some toys. Scott flopped back against the couch.

Kurt and Ororo were the only ones who didn't seem to mind.

“Before anyone asks, yes, you have to do it if you want to be an xmen,” Raven interjected.  The kids all sighed, but seemed to accept it.  

“What kind of farm is it?” Ororo asked.  

“Soybeans,” Hank told her. 

“When do we leave?” Jean asked.  Charles was teaching her not to just reach into people’s minds for information. 

“The beginning of June,” he replied.

“Well, alright, but I’m not wearing overalls.  Or going to a hoedown.” Jubilee said with her arms crossed. 

“Yeah, no banjos,” Scott said. 

“Shut up Scott,” Jean told him. 

“You shut up.”

“ _ You  _ shut up.” She was smiling, which she had rarely done before Scott had come to the school.

They were flirting. It was disgusting. 

“Will you be teaching us how to make moonshine?” Pietro asked.

“I’m from Illinois, not the book Deliverance,” Hank defended.  

“I don't read I don't know what that means,” Pietro shrugged. Hank, Raven, and Charles shared a tired look. 

“Anyway. Jean, Jubilee, get permission to go.” Raven instructed, leaving no room for argument. “Ok. Everyone get outside and start running.” 

“How many laps?” Kurt asked. 

“I’ll tell you all when you can stop.” 

The team shared a look, but filed outside to the path Hank had worn around the grounds on his morning runs. 

The doorbell rang three times in a row.  Hank’s ears could just make out the sound of a car driving away. He frowned, but looked at Charles. 

“I’ll get that, watch Tiberius.”  

Charles smiled and nodded, already seated in front of the playpen and making silly faces for the giggling baby. 

Hank hurried to the front door and opened it. No one was there. 

“Ah!” 

Hank looked down towards the noise.  _ Oh, god. _

Two babies were on the doorstep in baby carriers, cooing at him.  


	3. Chapter 3

The babies, twins, looked up at him with big eyes. 

“Are they regular doorstep babies or are they your doorstep babies?” Raven asked, looking over his shoulder. Hank didn't answer, just picked up the baby carriers and brought them inside to the living room, Raven followed, bringing the diaper bag that had also been left. Charles looked up when they walked in, still halfway through pulling a face at Tiberius. His face dropped at the sight of the carriers. 

Emma glided in, obviously sensing the drama.  

Hank set the carrier on the coffee table and sat on the couch, looking at them. They were definitely identical, both with big dark eyes, the same warm brown skin, the same short curling hair. They looked like Melody, he realized.  _ There’s no way this could happen twice in a month. _

“Did someone leave those babies here?” Charles asked, sounding a touch horrified. 

“Mhh hmm. Might be Hank’s. Again,” Raven announced. 

“No!  _ His _ ?” Charles whispered back in a scandalized tone.

“Yes,  _ his _ .” Emma whispered back, like a southern belle.

Hank scanned them.  They were definitely younger than Tiberius. A month at most? He started counting backwards. He dated Melody for four weeks, was sexually active that whole time. That had been in August the previous year.  Assuming they were Melody’s children, assuming they were a month old, and assuming she had carried them the full nine months, these could definitely be his. Charles was feeling one of the baby’s feet, which were covered with socks.  Hank watched as Charles tugged the tiny pink sock off, revealing a wide flat foot with toes more like fingers.  

“Well, that seems to settle that then,” Charles managed weakly.  Raven pulled off one of the other baby’s socks, revealing the same thing.  All through this the babies cooed happily.

Emma arched a perfectly groomed brow at him, but didn't say anything.

Raven looked at him, deadpan. 

“You're a doctor. How did you mess up birth control this bad?” She questioned.  

“I really have to ask the same Hank,” Charles said. 

“I have no idea,” was all he could tell them.  Alex walked in carrying a plate with a sandwich on it.  

He came to a full stop at the sight of him, Charles, and Raven sitting in front of two babies, both with Hank’s feet. 

“No way.” 

“Way,” Charles asserted. 

Alex came and sat down on the couch next to him. 

“Should we inform the police?” Charles questioned.  

“We don't need to get cops involved,” Alex said. “Not if they’re definitely his.”

Raven rummaged through the diaper bag.  

“Oohhh! Note!” She held it up triumphantly. Hank snatched it out of her hand and opened it with shaking hands. 

_ I’m sorry to do this but i just can’t. I thought i could do it, but I can’t be a mother to monsters. You can put them up for adoption or keep them, I don't care. Their birth certificates are in the bag.  I don't want anything to remind me of them.  _

_ -Melody _

He did not realize until he looked up at his friends that his face had grown stony. Hank held the note out to Charles, who read it and shook his head, face somber, handing it to Raven. Raven read it and her eyes took on a murderous gleam as she gave Alex the note.  Hank dug through the diaper bag for the birth certificates.  Finally he found them and carefully unfolded them.  Birth date: April 6, 1983. Gender: female. Mother: Melody Gatelo. Father: Henry McCoy.  Name: Bambi McCoy. 

_ Bambi?! _

He hastily unfolded the other certificate, eyes scanning down to the name. Barbie McCoy.  _ Nooo. _

Alex read over his shoulder. 

“Holy shit.  Barbie and Bambi! Their names are Barbie and Bambi!” Alex cackled.

Raven snickered. 

Charles stifled a giggle. Emma covered her mouth with her hand, eyes laughing. 

“I know they're your kids but those are such stripper names,” Alex said through his laughter. 

Charles could not contain his giggle then, beginning to laugh, his upper body shaking. 

Hank knew that if it were someone else he’d be laughing too, but it was not someone else, it was him and he had three children with ridiculous names.

Tiberius, Barbie, and Bambi. Good grief. 

Three children.   _ Three babies.   _ What was he supposed to do with that?  How could he have three children? 

Dear god, how was he going to tell his mother?

 

Twenty minutes later, Hank was still sitting on the couch in front of the baby carriers, though he now cradled a mug of hot chocolate that Jubilee had brought him.  Jubilee sat next to him on the couch, holding one of the girls. Melody’s letter had not specified which baby was which.  She may have broken up with him, but he would never thought her capable of this. Even Betsy had sent him Tiberius out of love. 

_ It was the feet. This is my fault, _ he thought darkly as Jubilee handed the baby to Charles. He was distantly aware that she was walking over to Tiberius and lifting him out of his playpen. 

Hank was shaken back to alertness by her taking the hot chocolate from him and placing Tiberius in his arms.  

“He wanted his daddy,” she said as explanation. 

Erik walked in, clearly already apprised of the situation by Charles. He swept an eye over the room, took in Charles holding one of the babies, speaking to her quietly with a large smile on his face, Emma serenely holding the other girl, and Hank with Tiberius in his arms, looking as lost as ever. 

“Erik, old friend, come look,” Charles beckoned. Erik obliged, examining the baby over Charles’s shoulder.  

“Nice,” was all Erik had to say.  Hank wondered if it was painful for him to see young children after the death of his daughter, which Raven had finally decided to let him in on, instead of letting him walk around like an ass acting as though Erik had never loved. “What are their names?” He asked.  

Hank swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. 

“Bambi and Barbie,” he grit out. Erik’s eye twitched, but he otherwise kept his composure. 

“Well. Congratulations,” Erik offered. 

The girl in Emma’s arm started to cry. Emma looked at him. 

_ Have you made your decision?  _ She asked.

Hank looked at the baby in her arms. 

_ Imagine if you had decided not to take Tiberius, _ He thought.  Knowing what he knew now, could he give these babies away?  Could he live knowing that somewhere out in the world he had children, who were living and breathing and being raised by someone else? The answer was an immediate and crushing no.

Hank nodded to Emma and shifted Tiberius to his side.  She put the girl in his arms. 

Kurt popped into the room. 

“Yes Mrs. Frost?” He asked, confused, clearly taken aback by the twins.

“Please go and get Dr. McCoy’s baby bag in his room,” she told him. The boy nodded quickly, disappearing and reappearing with the bag in the blink of an eye. 

“I believe she’s hungry,” Emma informed. 

_ Thank you _ Hank could only think, thoughts dripping with gratitude.  He filled a bottle, already prefilled with water, with formula and shook it up before offering her the nipple. She sucked on it hungrily, mouth working furiously.  

“I believe this means you’ll need another crib Hank.” Charles laughed.  

Hank twitched a smile. 

“How old are they?” Raven asked from the window seat. 

“four weeks,” Hank replied.  

“These are your babies too Dr. McCoy?” Kurt asked, wide eyed.  

Hank smiled a little more.

“Yeah, they are.”

The bottle of formula was finished, so he set it aside and pulled a cloth out of the bag, and lifted her to his chest, anxiety rippling through him as he felt how small she was.  He patted her back, gently. 

“Come on Kurt, lets give them some time,” Jubilee said, leading him from the room.  Hank’s nerves wracked brain spared a moment to think that those two would fit well together when they eventually admitted their mutual crushes.  

The girl Charles held began to wail.  It sounded so pitiful to Hank’s sensitive ears he could hardly stand it.  He handed the baby he was holding to Emma with painstaking care and held his hands out to Charles, who wheeled closer to give her to him. 

Hank rocked her carefully as he mixed her a bottle.  She clamped onto the nipple just as her twin had.  

_ So hungry. As if they haven't been fed today.  _ Emma remarked darkly, her words laced with icy disdain for Melody, and a harder loathing for humans in general. 

Hank shuddered, just a little, at the thought.  

“I think I’d better look them over in the infirmary,” he murmured, setting the emptied bottle aside.  Emma stood to accompany him, still holding the other twin. He’d done this with Tiberius, after the shock had worn off, though he’d had no reason to believe Betsy had neglected the boy.  The medical center was on the floor above his lab, and had an examination room, along with an infirmary with three beds.  Off to the side was an operating room that Hank hoped he’d never have to use, but like he’d told Raven, prepare for the worst.   He and Emma brought the babies to the examination room.  

“They’re eating, which is a good sign.” He commented absentmindedly, as he pulled out the baby scale.  The scale had been there since first child had been abandoned with them, and they’d realized that more could come. 

He handed Tiberius to Emma as he began examining the first baby.

He stripped off the baby’s clothes but left her her diaper and lowered her onto the scale.  She began to fuss at the cold metal on her bare skin, tears welling up in her big, dark, eyes. Hank quickly marked down her weight and length before he picked her up.  She was small enough to fit on his palms.  

He quickly wrapped her back up in her small blanket and got out an ink pad and paper, and pressed her tiny foot to the pad. He was going to have to compare their footprints to the ones on the birth certificates to determine which baby was which.   _ Which wouldn't be necessary if Melody had just specified which was wearing what color of socks,  _ he thought, filled with annoyance and resentment for Melody. It wasn't because she had left him these babies, that was overwhelming and terrifying but there was no resentment. He  just hadn't thought her capable of calling her own children monsters.  Being wrong was fucking awful. 

The world had proven to him time after time that humans in general would at best politely ignored his mutation, he expected nothing better, but to see it thrown at two innocent children, by their own mother. 

Sometimes, Hank wondered if there was anything to hope for at all. 

_ Now, now.  While I do like watching you develop a political ideology that’s a little less disney princess, doesn’t pessimism in the face of human-mutant relations fall firmly under my purview?  _ Emma placated him, her mental tone like powdered sugar. 

“And here I thought Charles’s grand speeches about ‘living and working together in harmony’ were getting through to you,” he said with a wry smile, examining the baby’s ears, and then her mouth. 

“I am not swayed by wishful thinking,” she replied, eyes dragging meaningfully along the twin in her arm, the other wrapped around Tiberius. “Nor are you.” Her blue eyes flicked up to his own.

Hank shook his head as they carefully swapped babies, face closer to hers than usual. 

“No, I am not,” he told her, and it felt dangerous to admit, it felt disloyal to say.  He weighed and measured this baby as well, her small hand curling around his finger.  

_ It is alright to not agree with Charles, you realize? Just because he and Erik are polar opposites does not mean he is automatically right,  _ Emma told him, clear as crystal.  As diamond. 

Hank chuckled dryly as he examined the tiny girl. 

“I’m well aware,” was all he replied, stamping the baby’s foot.

_ What is it that bothers you most about Charles’s ideology? It’s the naive belief that if we ingratiate ourselves to our oppressors they will one day deign to treat us with dignity, isn't it?  _ She asked, sending a chill up his spine.  She was examining his face with her cool eyes. 

He was struck by the memory of her standing by Shaw’s side.  

“You know, sometimes i forget you’re dangerous,” he said, not unkindly.  

She smiled a little, cold as ever. 

“Try not to make that mistake again,” Emma said, eyes like razors.  Though watching the exchange no one would have thought them friends, Hank knew there was no ill will on either of their parts. 

Hank held a magnifying glass over the birth certificates, making certain to keep track of which baby had made which print.  

“So, you’re holding Barbie, and I’ve got Bambi,” he pronounced, and knowing which baby was which suddenly made it real. He was holding his daughter, Bambi, and there was his daughter, Barbie, and they both had his feet, and they were tinier than he even thought possible. The realization that he was a father to three children under a year old was heart stopping. 

Tiberius reached out his chubby hand and grabbed Barbie’s bare foot, giggling.  

“Fu-rick,” he said, catching himself.  His success rate of not swearing in front of Tiberius was about 80 percent.  Unfortunately, many of the other adults at the school did not do so well. “I’m gonna need more stuff.”

Hank knew one thing, at least. He wasn't going to waste time on a store bought stroller.  He’d make one himself this time. 

 

“Hi Mama. So listen, here’s the thing. The thing is.  Maybe you oughta get Dad?” He began, eye on the twins napping in their carriers and Tiberius swinging in the swing seat.  

“What’s happened?  Norton get in here Hank’s on the phone!” She called.  Hank pressed at his temple in an attempt to ward off the approaching stress headache. 

“Whats going on Edna?” 

“Hank’s on the phone and he’s talkin twitchy,” his mama hissed a whisper. 

“Twitchy?” Dad asked.

Hank was pretty sure they didn't know he could hear them.

“Twitchy. Nervous. Like when he had to explain why Harvard caught him walking home naked after being thrown in a lake.”  

“Those boys stole my clothes!” He interjected, defensive.  Football hazing was mean, alright?

“We know honey, we know.” Mama mollified.  “Now, what’s goin on that you have to tell us?” 

Oh. Yeah.  _ That. _

“So. Do you remember when I was seeing that girl Melody?” He began, tugging at his collar with nerves. 

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone call.

“Yes?” His dad finally said.

“You didn’t get her pregnant too, did you?” Mama said with a laugh, clearly joking.

It was his turn to give them a long silence. 

It stretched on, and on, and on. 

“Well,” was all he was able to get out. 

“Henry Philip McCoy!” Was all his mother could say. 

“It’s not like i did this on purpose!” he tried to insist.  

“Well son I think that’s pretty much your problem, It’s not on purpose!” his dad let out.

Hank sighed. 

“I know. I know. But it's already happened.” He leaned back in his chair, exhausted. “They’re twins, by the way.”

Both of his parents sighed.  

“Girls or boys?” His Mama asked, voice accepting. 

“Girls, both of them.  They’re a month old.”

“What are their names?” His Dad asked. 

_ Oh god. _

“Um. I’d just like to point out that I didn’t pick the names,” he began.  “Bambi and Barbie.”

There was another drawn out pause.  

His dad’s choking dry laugh came over the phone, breaking the silence.

“Son, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he wheezed.  Hank started laughing too, till his ribs hurt.

“I really wish I was,” he gasped.  His mama was chuckling herself, and it was like the first car ride with Tiberius all over again, because Tiberius started laughing too.  

“Dada! Dada!” His son squealed in glee at the sound of the Hank’s laughter. 

“Who names their children Bambi and Barbie? What kind of woman is this?” His mama questioned. 

That abruptly ended his good mood. 

“Are you two going to share custody?” His dad asked.  Hank wrinkled his brow.  He felt strangely guilty, that no woman seemed willing to stick around.  Like a bad abnormal son.

“No, we’re not.  I’m going to be raising them alone with Tiberius.  She wasn't interested in continuing to see them.” he told them, even guiltier than before.  If they hadn't gotten his damned feet, Melody might have loved them.

“Oh goodness, that’s such a shame.  At least they've got you,” his Mama said sadly. 

He nodded, though of course they could not see it. 

“The kids are excited to see the farm,” he mustered up some enthusiasm. He wanted to hang up the phone and crawl into bed, and maybe never get back out. 

“That's good son.  We’re real pleased we’re gonna see you.  Your nana is making her cherry pie she’s so excited,” his dad told him. Hank could almost hear their smiles. 

“Her cherry pie? We’ll, maybe i should visit earlier than I’d planned,” he joked, still sad. During the decade after Cuba, he’d gotten very good at convincing his parents that everything was fine, even when they really weren't. “Oh, I gotta go. I’m being called to dinner,” he lied. 

“Alright honey.  We love you.”

“Love you too.” 

Finally he put down the phone. Had he not been sitting already, he’d have collapsed into a seat. He wanted to smoke, he wanted to drink himself sick. Instead, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a family size oreo container.  Tiberius bounced up and down happily while Hank plowed through half the cookies. 

Alex strolled in, and paused in the doorway to take in the scene.  The babies, Hank and his cookies, the phone half tossed on the receiver.  

“Wow.  Don't you look like a jilted prom date,” Alex said sarcastically. “Your parents not thrilled over the reveal that their son is a slut who can't use birth control?”

Hank flipped him off, his mouth full of oreos. Alex sat on the couch, cocky grin firmly in place. 

“My parents are fine with it. I’m just tired.” which was not exactly true, but it was close enough.  “I have to feed them, and get them a bath.” He said as he stood. Alex looked awkward, but also stood.

“Do you need help, or shit?” He asked gruffly. Hank looked up, a little shocked.

“Yeah, yeah i do.  Thank you, Alex.” 

Alex grabbed a baby carrier, the one with Bambi in it.  Hank knew that because Bambi had the lilac socks and Barbie had the blue socks.  He grabbed Barbie’s carrier and then lifted Tiberius out of the baby bouncer.  It was getting dark out as they climbed up to Hank’s room. He flicked on the light as they stepped inside.  

“So like. What do we do?” Alex asked as he put down the baby carrier. Hank set Tiberius down in his crib.  The boy immediately hauled himself up with the railing, standing on his shaky baby legs and watching as Hank began mixing bottles of formula, with big curious eyes. He handed Alex a bottle and picked up Bambi, sitting on the edge of his bed to feed her. Alex gingerly picked up Barbie and sat in the arm chair, tentatively giving her the bottle.  Emma opened the door and sat on the bed next to Hank, watching him feed the baby.  

_ Your distress is quite loud, as usual. It disturbed my reading.  _ She said, only to him, and though you could not disguise your meaning from Emma, she could do it to you.  Hank knew she meant that she disliked to hear him distressed. Emma had been a good friend since her liberation from one of Stryker’s mutant experimentation facilities nearly six years before. 

_ Sorry _ was all he said. He was still tired and distracted.     
She shrugged delicately. 

“For now, you could empty out a drawer and make them a bed with that,” she suggested. Hank nodded, glad for the direction. She carefully tucked a strand of her shoulder length hair behind her ear.   _ Really Henry. You must cheer up. It’s not good for anyone, least of all you.  _ She urged.  He gave her a small smile.  

_ I’ll try Emma _ he assured her.  He hated when he got this way, tired and slow and numb. It reminded him of the post Cuba years, though in truth he had been having these episodes since college.  

Alex was completely distracted from this silent exchange, attention locked on to Barbie sucking on the bottle, a smile playing on his lips.  Emma smiled a little at the sight.  

“What are you two doing this summer?” Hank asked, burping Bambi.  Alex did the same with Barbie. 

“I will be in Monte Carlo for business,” Emma told them with no elaboration. 

“Raven asked me to help her out with a mission,” Alex offered with a shrug.  

Alright, so Emma and Alex would be spending the summer circumventing commercial business laws and beating the shit out of humans who were beating the shit out of mutants. 

He was suddenly overtaken by a massive yawn.  

“You should get some rest, Beast,” Alex said, clapping him softly on the back. 

Emma picked up Tiberius out of his crib.  It was such a strange image, her holding a baby, that it shocked him every time he saw it.  Emma did not seem maternal, though she was devoted to her students.  

_ Hush. I love children. _  She mentally shot back.   _ Their minds are simple, but very rarely filled with the nasty mess of adulthood.  _

“What kind of mess?” Alex asked, putting Barbie in the crib. 

“Emotions. Ideas.” She looked at them both with piercing eyes. “Preoccupations.”  

“Creepy,” Alex replied. Hank had to concur. 

Alex kneeled down at Hank’s dresser and pulled out a drawer filled with pants. “They can sleep in this tonight, i guess.  What’s your plan for tomorrow?”

“No idea. Maybe I’ll build them a crib.” He said with a shrug.

“You need a bigger room,” Emma remarked. Hank looked around. Shit, she was right.  _ Of course i am _ .

Hank stood and handed Alex Bambi, and pulled all of his pants out of the drawer, lining it with blankets and settling it on top of his dresser.  

He was exhausted, down to the bone. 

Emma went to the bathroom and began running the water. 

_ Why are you being so helpful? _ He asked her, joining her in the bathroom. 

There was a strange pause, one that generally didn't exist in mental conversations.

_ Mutant children must be protected at all costs if we are to succeed. _ She replied.  __

_ Fair enough _ , Hank thought back.  Tiberius was the first one in the bath, pushing his bath toy around.  He carefully scrubbed the baby boy, getting the soap in the fat rolls of his thighs, washing his soft light hair.  

Tiberius splashed in the water, playing with his bath toy.  While he was fairly advanced for his age, he was still a normal baby, even with Hank reading to him from calculus textbooks before bed.  Hank finished rinsing Tiberius off and lifted him out of the warm water, handing him to Emma who was waiting with a towel.  She wrapped him up and took him out to his crib, Hank catching some of the telepathic cooing she was doing.  He’d had no idea that she liked children, babies.  She was an excellent teacher of course, and obviously cared for her students, but he’d never once pictured her…  _ cooing _ .   

Alex brought in Bambi and Barbie, holding them awkwardly but with care.   Hank took Barbie first, stripping off her onesie and socks and finally her diaper.  He bathed her quickly, observing the movement of her dark eyes, how quiet she was.  Emma came and stood next to them, no longer holding Tiberius.  

“The teacher’s quarters needed to be expanded anyway.” She told them, her own sharp eyes watching Barbie intently.  He finished with Barbie and handed her to Emma, who was again waiting with a towel to carefully wrap her up,though this time she stayed in the bathroom with he and Alex.  Hank took Bambi and washed her quickly, not wanting the water to get cold. She was just as quiet as her twin.  “Their powers will be mental,” Emma remarked as Hank helped Alex wrap Bambi in a towel and drained the tub.  

He looked up sharply at her words.  

“You can tell that already?” He questioned. 

_ I may be wrong, though i doubt it. _  She told them.  Alex was uncharacteristically silent, staring at Bambi with rapt attention.  Emma transferred Barbie to Hank’s arms as she sensed his desire for her.  He rocked her gently, in slight terror of holding something so small and fragile.  

  
  


The next day:

The first thing Hank had done that was run to the store to buy the essentials; diapers, formula, a few things from the hardware store, and some mountain bike tires.  Tiberius played in his playpen and the girls rested in their car seats while he sketched out stroller designs.  He’d decided that the girls would sit up top facing him, so that he could better meet any needs while out walking.  He had the vague hope that it would help with bonding, as they hadn't known him for the first few months of their lives.  He wasn't so worried about the same with Tiberius as they’d already bonded, and he knew that he’d received love and attention from Betsy.  Tiberius would sit lower and facing out, as he was often craning to look around.

He tapped his pen against the table.  

Easily foldable, manoeuvrable, fire proof.  He added to the design until he had a rough sketch.  He wanted it to be good.  

Hank had always known that the most important thing about him was his brain.  Sure, he was strong and fast, but with his brain he could invent and create. Really, his brain was the only useful thing about him.  He wasn't sure he could be a good father, like his own dad was, but at least he could build them things.  

Bambi began to cry and he mixed her a bottle while looking over his papers, putting the nipple to her hungry mouth.  

_ I’m going to give my kids such an advanced stroller that the designers at Fisher-Price won't conceive of something similar until Barbie and Bambi have graduated from Harvard, _ he thought, suddenly full of passion, and got to work.  

 

One month later:

The fourteen hour drive from Westchester, New York to Dunfee, Illinois with three babies, five teens, and Pietro had been a bit grueling to say the least.  Hank had arranged the van so that a car seat with a baby was in the the middle of each row, so that each baby had two teens to take care of it.  The kids had all nodded off around mid drive, so he’d had about an hour of blessed quiet, but now they were all up and alert for the final stretch of their journey.  The familiar old country roads were lined with crops nearing harvest time.  

He hadn't been home in a while, a few years actually, but it all looked the same.  That was the thing about Dunfee, for better or worse, the people liked it how it was, and kept it that way.  It looked about the same as it did when he was a boy, but with a few more families and an in color movie theater.  Thankfully, it hadn't been that bad in the first place.  There had been bullies of course, but what town didn't have those? 

Probably his mama was in the kitchen now, fixing lunch or maybe already working on dinner while dad was in the fields.  His whole family would come over for dinner, his cousin with his wife and their children, his nana and poppop, and his aunts and uncles. They’d all sit up late together.  The McCoys gave each other space in general, but when something was happening with one of the others, they all gathered.  

He pulled into the long dirt driveway that led to a little white farmhouse, with a red barn behind it.  

“Is this it?” Scott asked.   

“Yeah, this is it. Now, i want you kids to be on your best behavior, my parents are nice but they’re old fashioned.”  He warned.  They were good kids but they were still teens, and Pietro was Pietro.   “How are the babies, are they up?” he asked.

“Bambi’s up,” Jean told him. 

“Barbie is awake Dr. McCoy,” Kurt said cheerful as ever.  

“Tiberius is up,” Ororo called from the very back where she was sitting with Pietro.  

He parked the van next to the shed where his first truck was still parked, kept as a backup if his dad’s own truck ever broke down.  

He pushed open his door, suddenly apprehensive. He always felt guilty for his time away from his parents.  He was an only child, and there was always a part of him that wondered if he should have gone off on his own, but stayed home and taken care of them.  

His mama swung the kitchen screen door open and hurried down the porch steps towards him as he came around the van.  A smile broke on his face as he hugged her.  He was much taller than her, had been since he was thirteen years old, but she still managed to make the hugs feel as though she were the one engulfing him.  She pulled back and looked up at him, inspecting.  

“You aren't getting enough sleep dear,” she pronounced.  He grinned.  His mama always knew.  

“Hi mama,” he greeted, before turning back to the van at the sound of the door sliding open.  Scott had stepped out and was waiting for Jean while she got Bambi out of her car seat and handed her down to him.  She hopped down carefully, but they stood back carefully, that strange shyness overcoming them that seemed to only skip the boldest of teens.  His mother was having none of that, however.  

“Now who are these with one of my grandchildren?”  She called, beckoning them forward.  

They stepped towards her as Kurt and Jubilee got out of the van, Jubilee holding Barbie.  Kurt shifted awkwardly, but smiled when Hank nodded reassuringly.  The boy had been worried that Dunfee would be like the circus, but Hank had promised it would be alright.  Pietro hurried out shortly after them, visible only until his feet hit the ground when he shot off in a flash. 

Mama raised her eyebrows at him.  

“He’s been cooped up for a few hours, he just needs to stretch his legs,” he explained.  Ororo came out last, holding Tiberius on her hip as she carefully swung down from the van.  

Pietro skittered to a stop next to her, hair as windblown as ever.  

“Mama, this is Jean, Scott, Jubilee, Kurt, Ororo, and Pietro,” he introduced the team.  

Each kid greeted her politely.  

“Hi now, you can all call me Edna, now come on inside so i can see those babies,” she said eagerly, and assured them all into his childhood home.  The kitchen was small but well lit, with the meal area off to the side, the table with the leaves up and ready for a large group, another table set up to make room for the extended family.  

She stirred a pot on the stove and slid a casserole dish into the oven, midway through making dinner.  She turned to him and patted her hands clean on her apron with the ruffled edges.

Now, show me my grandchildren,” she said insistently, having waited as long as she could.  The kids passed the babies down the table carefully to Hank and his mama. Barbie reached them first, wearing a lavender onesie.  She was settled into mama’s arms, big brown eyes looking up curiously.  She had a fuzz of curls on her head, and had gained half a pound in the two weeks he’d had them.  

“This is Barbie.”

His mama beamed at her, tears in her eyes.  

“Oh Hank, she’s so beautiful.” Bambi came down the table next, with Tiberius right after.  Hank took them, Bambi in his arm and Tiberius on his lap.  

The kitchen door opened and his dad stepped in from the outside.  

“Hey son, good to see you,” he greeted, pouring himself a glass of lemonade as he sat next to Hank at the table. “Let me meet one of my grandbabies,” he directed, smiling with his hands outstretched for Tiberius or Bambi.  Hank handed him Bambi, knee bouncing Tiberius.  “Ooh, she’s a tiny thing.” 

“I hope you kids are hungry, we’re making a lot of food,” mama asked good naturedly.  

“We’re very hungry,” Scott said.

Dr. McCoy wouldn't stop for Mcdonald's, he just told us to eat the carrots and sandwiches he brought.”  Jean told her.  

“Carrots are so good for you, you all need the vitamins,” he protested.    

“But you didn't eat any of the carrots either,” Pietro said. 

Dad laughed gruffly, looking up.  

“Gosh, where are my manners.  Hello, I’m Norton McCoy,” he greeted all the kids.  

“M’names Pietro but my cool alias is quicksilver,” Pietro told him, showing a little more respect than he ever did, meaning: he only briefly did finger guns.  

“I’m Jubilee, it’s cool to meet you Mr. McCoy,” Jubilee said politely, making up for Pietro.  Hank had very firmly told them all that they weren't allowed to wear their heavy jackets on the farm because he didn't want them getting heat stroke.  This had the effect of making them appear effectively naked, though some were dealing with it better than others.  Without her signature jacket Jubilee had decided to embrace the “classic americana thing he was going for” and was instead wearing a bright yellow button up shirt, tied at the waist and the sleeves cuffed to the elbows.  

“I am Kurt Wagner, I’m blue,” Kurt told him.  His dad laughed.

“I can see that!” he said kindly.

“I just vanted to get it out of the way,” Kurt offered as explanation.

“My names Scott, Scott Summers.”  

“I’m Jean Grey, it’s nice to meet you.”

Finally they all looked to Ororo, who was sitting quietly, observing the proceedings. 

“I am Ororo,” she introduced herself simply.  

Dad smiled and nodded.

“It’s nice to meet all of you kids.  Any of you ever farmed before?” He asked.  

All shook their heads but Ororo and Kurt.  

“My family grew dates when i was young,” Ororo offered a small piece of personal information. 

“For a few summers before the circus, I worked on a potato farm,” Kurt told them.  

“The circus?” his mama questioned, looking up from Barbie.  

“Jaja!” Kurt bobbed his head.  “I am the Incredible Nightcrawler, guaranteed to amaze and astound!”

“You were in the circus young man?” His dad asked, leaning forward.  

“The Munich Circus, jaja. I joined when i was nine, sir,” Kurt said. Hank tipped his head in interest, he hadn't heard how Kurt had joined the circus.  He had assumed he’d been raised there. 

“Where were your parents?” His dad asked.  Kurt’s happy smile didn't fade, as though his situation was very common.

“My father is dead and my mama accidentally lost me as a baby, I was raised by nuns and then by an old woman, and then I joined the circus, and now i am here!” He said, when there was a knock at the door, immediately followed by it being pushed open.  In tumbled three kids followed quickly by his cousin Matthew.

“Were here.  Kids, say hi to your uncle Hank,” Matthew said. 

“Hi uncle Hank,” chimed the kids, Mark: 9, Melissa: 7, and Megan: 4.  The screen door hung open for a moment before May came in carrying a casserole dish carefully, belly round with her fourth.  

The kids calmed down as mama gave them little chores to do.  

He handed Tiberius to Kurt and stood.

“Hi Hank,” Matthew greeted, briefly hugging him. 

“Hi Matthew, good to see you.”

“Hank! It has been too long!” May greeted, hugging him after she put down the dish.  “How have you been? Busy, I’m sure, you’re catching up to us!” She smiled.  He smiled back, he’d always liked May. 

“I’m very busy, but i don't mind,” he answered truthfully.  “Do you want to hold one of them?” he asked.  

Her eyes lit up and she nodded. She sat in the chair he had vacated as he handed he Tiberius.  

“This is Tiberius.”

“Hi Tiberius, I’m your Aunt May,” she cooed to him.  “They’re so wonderful when they're this age.” There was another knock at the door, but once again they didn't bother to wait, just walking in.  It was his uncle John and aunt Dorothy, carrying a dutch oven.  

“Well this can't be Hank! He’s too young,” uncle John joked. 

“It’s me uncle John,” Hank said with a smile, hugging his aunt and uncle.

“Hey mom,” Matthew greeted aunt Dorothy.  

Over the years, they’d watched as the family grew older, but Hank remained youthful, aging maybe seven years in three decades. At thirty-nine, the appearance of a twenty-seven year old was merely a little disconcerting, but it’d be very strange indeed in ten years time.  He had aged fairly normally until he’d hit twenty, when it had slowed to a crawl.  The other mutants had similar aging effects.  He knew Emma, for instance was much older than she appeared, though he’d never dared ask how old she really was.

“Hank really, what is your secret?” May asked, though of course they all knew it was his mutation. 

“You know May, i just drink a lot of water,” he said, as Tiberius began to fuss, face turning red. 

“I think he wants his daddy,” May said, handing him back as he started to cry.  Hank bounced him carefully on his hip.  

“I left the diaper bag outside, I’ll-” he was going to say “get it” but Pietro was out of his seat and out of the door before he could, and back with the bag before he could blink.  He returned to his seat, acting as though he were unaware of the awe of the others.   

_ Show off _ , Hank thought, a touch fondly.  Jean overheard him and laughed out loud, making the others turn to look at her, students and family members alike, though for different reasons.  

“Who thought what?” Jubilee asked.  

Jean projected the comment to the other students, making most smile.  

“I’m not a show off!” Pietro protested.  Ororo and Jubilee rolled their eyes.  

“You were going Mercury Capri when Chevette would still have been cool,” Scott told him.  Hank mixed a bottle of formula for Tiberius, giving it to the baby.  

Another car pulled up outside. 

“I’ll go help nana,” Matthew said, ducking out the door.  

“Uncle Hank are those really your babies?” Melissa asked.  She was skinny, with stick straight brown hair in pigtails, eyes wide as she stared at Bambi and Barbie.

“Yes Melissa they are,” he told her, gentle.  

She seemed confused.  

“Then how come they don't look like you?” She asked, and he knew she meant their skin color.  

He paused for a moment, thinking of an answer.  

“They look a lot like their mom, because she had dark skin too, and they have dark eyes like her, but there are parts of them that are like me.”  He offered.  

“Like what?” she asked curiously.  

“You know what my feet look like?” she nodded.  He reached over and tugged off Bambi’s sock.  “Their feet are like mine, see?” he smiled.  His dad looked at Bambi’s foot, the toes more like fingers.  

Melissa nodded, awed.  The door opened, Matthew helping nana and poppop shuffle in, carrying two pies for her.  

“Thank you Fluffernutter,” she told Matthew.  “Moonpie, come here love,” nana said, short and blinking behind her thick glasses.  He turned to her, Tiberius still being fed in his arms.  “I see you've got your arms full, so I’m gonna hug you but don't you feel like you gotta hug back.”  She wrapped her thin arms around him and Tiberius, head barely reaching his chest.  Poppop shuffled forward.  

“Hank, it's good to see you son,” he hugged him after nana pulled back.  “Is this little fella Tiberius?”  

Hank smiled.  

“He sure is. Tiberius, these are your great grandparents.” he introduced as the baby finished his bottle.  

“I just can't believe it, moonpie.  I thought we wouldn't see you have babies, and then you give us three at once,” nana told him with a smile.  “A wife along with them might have been easier, but they're still blessings.” She pinched his cheek before she settled down at the table next to Kurt, taking a moment to notice him.  

“Oh my, young man, you’re quite blue,” she commented, befuddled in that way elderly people have.  

Kurt nodded hesitantly.  He seemed to brace himself.  

“Yes, i am ma’am,” he told her.  

“Is it hard to make your outfits match?” she asked.  Kurt looked taken aback by how innocent the question was.  

“Oh! No ma’am, not at all,” he answered as uncle Bob arrived last, striding through the door.  

“Oh good, the food just finished,” Mama said.  

“Hank! Good to see you!” His uncle greeted him with a hug.  “And you brought the whole gang, hi ya’ll, I’m Bob.”  

The kids all greeted him back.  

“Hank I cleared a space for you in the living room to put a playpen if you want to do that during dinner,” mama said.  

“Pietro can you-” he began, but Pietro was already whizzing past him and out the door, back in the split second with the playpen.  He darted into the living room.  

“It’s set up!” he called. 

“Is he always like that?” Matthew asked good naturedly.  

“Sometimes he's worse,” Scott said, deadpan.  Hank went and put Tiberius first in the playpen, the baby’s eyes blinking sleepily.  He fussed a little, but quickly stopped once he gave him his pacifier.  Next for the twins.  

He went and got them from his parents, one in each arm, bouncing carefully until he lowered them into the playpen and gave them their pacifiers.  Tiberius was already asleep, and the girls looked like they’d soon follow. 

He could hear everyone gathering, the food being put on the table, the kids asking if they needed help with anything, the refusals and the demands that they sit and make themselves comfortable.  

He stood there for a moment, watched as the Tiberius and the girls fell asleep, so small he could hardly believe.  Still, they were bigger than they’d been when he first held them.   He could see how they’d grow, faster than he would wish, even if it felt so overwhelming for them to be so small, to depend so entirely upon him.  

Hank returned to the kitchen, to the buzz as everyone sat for dinner, the tables laden with the food everyone made.  There was a pitcher of lemonade on the table and the kids were going through the rounds of introductions again.  

In the shuffle of assistance and resitting down the kids ended up evenly spread through the group. The tables just barely squeezed into the room.  They’d put the leaves out on the vertical large family table and then placed two smaller tables at each end, horizontal. At the far end of the table were two chairs, and Pietro sat on their left and Uncle Bob sat on their right.  Next to Pietro sat Ororo, next to her was nana and poppop, then Kurt, dad, and mama.  Then began the second vertical table.  Mark sat next to mama and across from May.  There were three seats at the end of the table, across from Uncle Bob and Pietro.  Matthew sat next to Mark, with Melissa and Megan between he and May.  Next to May was Scott and Jean, an empty seat, Jubilee, and finally aunt Dorothy and uncle John next to Uncle Bob.  Hank took the empty seat.  

The kids were used to merely beginning the meal when the majority of the group was there, so while Kurt crossed himself quickly, they all reached for their forks.  They stopped at a quick jerk of his head, however.   

“Let us pray,” dad said.  Everyone bowed their heads and folded their heads.  The kids took the hint, Kurt first and the others following.  Pietro was the only one who didn’t, but he was quiet and still, which was a lot for him.  “Lord Jesus, bless this meal that it may nourish us, and bless our guests Lord, that their visit be fruitful.  Amen.”  The group repeated the amen. 

The kids hesitated this time, but relaxed when the others began to eat and talk. 

“Pass the sweet potatoes please. Weren’t you telling us you were in the circus?” His mama asked Kurt. 

Kurt looked up surprised to be addressed again. 

Mark and Melissa watched Kurt with wide eyes at this question, but even the adults at the table looked up from their plates. 

“Ja, I was.  The Munich Circus, I joined when I was nine,” he said.  His plate had barely any food on it.  Hank knew he was probably making sure there was enough for the others. 

“Well, now how did you end up there, Kurt was it?” May asked, leaned forward. 

“Kurt, ja.  Vell, I lived with a widow when I was young, but she died when I was eight, so I went to live with her son, but he had too many children and didn’t want me, so they sent me to live with a farmer in the next village.  I lived with him for the spring, and the circus passed through in early summer.  He decided I wasn’t much use to him, so before they left he brought me to them, and got a few marks for me,” Kurt explained.  By then everyone looked up at him.  He picked at his food, unaware. 

“How did you come to live with the widow?” uncle John asked, while he cut at his food. 

These were personal questions, but Kurt didn’t seem to mind answering them.

“My vater, sorry, father, died before I was born, killed by scientists.  My mama raised me until I vas about a year old, and she left me in a convent where most of the nuns were mutants to go- uh, do something important.  She vas going to come back and get me, but she was delayed, and while she was gone, a mob attacked the convent and the nuns had to run away with me, so my mama could not find me.  The nuns found a new convent and raised me there until I was about four, and then the widow Huber adopted me.” He explained.  Hank had never heard the full story, and every additional detail made it sadder.  Kurt seemed unaware of this.  “All her children had grown up, so she needed help around her house.” He added. 

The questions came rapid fire then, the adults never having heard something so outlandish in their lives. 

“How did you get from the circus to here?” Melissa asked. 

“Why would the widow adopt a four year old if she needed help with her house?” aunt Virginia asked. 

“What did you do in the circus?” Megan asked. 

Kurt took this all in, and nodded. 

“Um, mal schauen.  The widow adopted me because she thought I was a dämon, sorry, a devil, because of how I look, and so she wanted to make me not a devil. Before my powers came I was more like a um, exhibit.  People paid to look at me, ah a sideshow, thank you Jean.  And then after my powers came they made me a main event,” he told them proudly. 

“What’s your power?” Mark asked. 

“I teleport.  But mutants were more common after a while, and people stopped paying to see me as much, so when we were in Berlin, they sold me and I was put in a box, and they let me out finally in a big cage and there were many yelling people.  They forced mutants to fight there, but while I vas fighting a boy my mama rescued me, but we didn’t know she was my mama yet. She brought me to the school, and now I am here,” Kurt said, finally reaching for more food. 

Everyone sat in stunned silence. 

Scott finally broke it. 

“Kurt what the f-,” he said, the rest of the word cut off by sheer telepathic silence. 

“Thanks Jean,” Hank told her. 

“Well, that is very… interesting,” mama said, clearly uncertain what to say. 

“Young man, those are some very odd sunglasses, is that what’s popular with the kids these days?” Nana asked Scott. 

“Uh, no ma’am.  They’re special glasses.  Dr. McCoy made them for me, I need them to regulate my mutation.” 

“To regulate your mutation?” Dad asked. 

Scott took another scoop of baked spaghetti. 

“Yeah, I was in a plane crash when I was a kid and I hit my head, so now my power is fffudged up,” Scott told them, this time able to correct himself before Jean had to. 

“A plane crash?” uncle bob asked. 

“Yeah. My power is lasers from my eyes but without my glasses I use them involuntarily.” 

Hank smiled to himself.  All of the kids were making an effort to be polite, in their own ways. 

“What do the rest of you do if he teleports and he has laser eyes and he’s super-fast?”  Mark asked. 

“I’m telepathic, telekinetic, and a psion.  That’s a psychic.” Jean told them. 

“I make fireworks,” Jubilee said. 

Everyone looked to Ororo.

“I manipulate the weather,” she said. 

“Ororo, where are you from?” May asked politely.

She looked up. 

“I was born in Manhattan but we moved back to Kenya where my mother was from.  After my parents died I went to Cairo.” She told her, calm as ever. 

“Wow, why Cairo?” aunt Virginia asked. 

“I simply felt the desire to wander, and I decided to follow it.”

The McCoy’s had been born and raised in Dunfee, and all of them except Hank had chosen to stay.  They wouldn’t really understand just up and leaving, but they all nodded. 

Even through all this discussion requests for food was made and dishes were passed around. 

“Jubilee, Hank here tells us that you are so helpful with the babies, do you have siblings?” mama asked. 

“No, I’m an only child, but I live with my aunt so I’d help with my younger cousins sometimes,” Jubilee offered.  “This food is so good by the way.” 

All the women waved off the compliment but had small smiles on their faces. 

“Where are you from?” uncle John asked. 

Jubilee met his eye.

“Beverly Hills, originally, but after my parents died I moved in with my aunt in LA.”  She picked at her food.  She and Scott weren’t sharers like Kurt was, because they knew that these things weren’t particularly normal.  It seemed clearer and clearer to him every day that Ororo’s shyness and hesitation was receding to a quiet dignity and grace. 

Every innocent question about personal lives was a minefield with these kids. 

“So like, what exactly is there to do around here?” Scott asked. 

Mama’s face brightened. 

“There’s the library, and the movie theater.  We have church events often.  The big thing coming up is the Fourth of July barbeque.  Oh it’s so much fun, you kids are gonna love it.  There’s food and dancing and fireworks,” she told them all. 

Aunt Virginia put her fork down as if reminded of something. 

“Did you hear that Karen McGullin is also back in town?  You outta ask her out to lunch Hank,” she suggested, in a tone that demanded. 

Hank cringed.  Karen McGullin was a nice lady, but Hank wasn’t the least bit interested.  It wasn’t even that his family really thought she and he would be good fits, it was because to them it didn’t seem right that he wasn’t married yet, especially with three babies.  They weren’t judging him, exactly, but if a man in town ever found himself with a child dropped on his doorstep, he’d go out and find a willing woman to help him manage the situation.  Hank choosing to raise the babies on his own without a wife to help was outlandish. 

“You know, I really just want to spend time with you all, I can’t imagine when I’d find the time to go to lunch with her.”  He hurriedly told them.  At the same moment a baby’s cry came from the living room and saved him.  “Excuse me.”  He stood from the table and went to the playpen.  It was Tiberius who was crying, chubby cheeks red.  He calmed when Hank appeared over the playpen, and stopped crying the moment he lifted him out.  “Do you want to come eat dinner with the grownups?”  Hank asked him quietly.  He returned to his seat at the table, this time with Tiberius on his lap.   Mama smiled at the sight of them together. 

“I hope you’ve been taking pictures,” she said. 

“I try to, but it always seems like there’s something else to do instead,” he told her, finishing his food. 

“Hank really, they’ll get bigger and you’ll wish you had pictures of them at this age.”  She insisted. 

“She’s right Hank, my mom’s always sad that she doesn’t have any pictures of me and Wanda when we were little,” Pietro told him, surprisingly.  “Well she had em, but they all burned and then she went to America and my aunt and uncle didn’t own a camera.”

“You’re not American?” uncle Bob asked, looking up in interest. 

“Nah, I’m from Poland,” he seemed as though he were paying half, maybe a fourth of his attention to the conversation, but that was just how Pietro was.  He was nearly always either dreadfully bored or in your face excited. 

“Poland? What brought you to America?” his dad asked.

“My mom always wanted to come, so she came over when me and Wanda were like three or four.  We stayed with our aunt and uncle until they died, I think we were eight, and then we were able to come here.” The further explanation negated his seeming lack of interest.  If he truly found a topic boring he’d sigh dramatically and change the subject.

“Now why’d yall need to come over separate?” Matthew asked. 

“My mom didn’t have the money to bring us all over at once.”  He said with a shrug. 

“Wheres your sister now?” May asked.  At least Pietro’s story didn’t include being orphaned or sold.

“Shes home with my mom and little sister.  She just got her masters.”

Hank looked up.

“What’s her masters in?” he asked. 

“Uhhh English.”

Does she have a job yet and is she a mutant too?”

“No and yes,” Pietro looked up.  “Why?”

“We need an English teacher.  Call her and tell her we’d like her to apply.” 

Pietro blinked and shrugged. 

“Ok, sure.  I’ll let her know.” 

Good, that was taken care of. 

Everyone seemed to be done with their food, plates clear.  They were just talking to each other. 

“He is such a sweet boy Hank.” May told him, making faces at Tiberius, much to the boy’s delight.  “What do with them while you’re in class?” 

“Oh, sometimes I’ll get one of them to watch them, but sometimes I’ll just teach class with them. Isn’t that right Tiberius?”  He replied. 

At the sound of Hank’s voice saying his name Tiberius squealed. 

“Dada!” 

Every time the baby said it he had a burst of pride, and this time was no different. 

“Why does baby Tiberius look different that his sisters?” Melissa asked.  She was a curious kid, ad normally he’d be thrilled to find that she had an inquisitive mind, but he wished she’d stop asking questions like that. 

“Because, they have different moms.” He told her, a little hesitant. 

“Don’t you have to be married to have babies?” little Megan asked, her blue eyes wide. 

“Um.” Was all he could say.

Matthew snickered, but May came to his rescue. 

“Not always, Megan.  Why don’t you all tell uncle Hank his babies are cute and stop asking him these kinds of questions?”

“Your babies are cute uncle Hank,” the kids said in unison, recognizing a command when they heard one.  

Mama stood and clapped her hands once.  

“Alright, who wants some of Nana’s cherry pie?”

 

Eventually  dinner ended and even uncle Bob had to leave, and all the kids were shown to their rooms, with the boys sleeping in the barn.  Hank was squeezed into his childhood bedroom along with the traveling crib he’d built.  The summer day had cooled when night had fallen, enough for him to slip on a cardigan as he tiptoed downstairs and out to the front steps, where he sat down and lit a cigarette.  He’d fallen off the wagon yet again.  He’d tried of course, and he’d been doing well, but then the end of the school year rush had come, and the arrival of the twins, and the anxieties of visiting his family.  He’d just slipped, and didn't seem to be able to get back up.  

Deep in his thoughts, he didn't hear someone approaching from within the house until the screen door was creaking open.  

He scrambled to put the cigarette out and pretend he was just getting some fresh air, but it was too late.  His dad sat down next to him while he still held the lit cigarette.  

“I didn't know you smoked son,” he told him neutrally.  

“Yeah, that twenty-seven year old secret is out of the bag,” Hank said with a sigh as he took a drag.  

His dad blinked owlishly at him.  

“You started smoking when you were  _ twelve _ ? How’d you keep that a secret?” He questioned.  

Hank shrugged.  

“I was at college,” he said as explanation.  

His dad seemed to accept it.  

They sat in silence, content, looking out into the dark.  

“I’m glad you’re here son,” dad said.  

There was a beat of silence.  

“So am I dad.”  

Hank finished the cigarette.


End file.
